


The Winchester Way

by SOFreddie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bagging, Blood, Character Death(s), Dark!Dean, F/M, Fear, Gore, Graphic Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Death(s), Masterbation, Mentions of Death/Character Death, Mild Public Smut, Minor Character Death(s), Minor Molestation (of an adult), Molestation, Multi, NSFW, Nudity, Oral Sex (male giving/receiving), Other, Panic, Rough Sex, Smut, TW: Virginal Rape, TW: suicidal thoughts, Threatening behavior, Torture, Violence, Vouyerism, absolute chaos, dubcon, emotional distress, mild violence, minor fluff, tw: abuse, tw: depression, use of weapons, virgin!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:32:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 50,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16467020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOFreddie/pseuds/SOFreddie
Summary: The Winchesters, best of the best in the hunting world. Their family has always been the best, as long as time can remember. Other hunters send their kin to the Winchesters for a few years for extensive training. Their methods are unorthodox, but they all know, to be the best…you must endure the worst.DARK!FIC - Heed the warnings!!!*Series is COMPLETE*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I was told that I was not living up to my full writing potential because I was not tapping into my darker side. Well, here is my dark side in all it’s angsty, threatening glory. Heed the warnings!!! I think I entered all the warnings for this part. Shout out to @sis-tafics. She’s not exactly a beta - and refuses to be called such - but we’ve agreed on “Creative Collaborator” for bouncing around ideas with me, putting up with my insane ramblings at all hours, and ensuring me this doesn’t suck! Love ya Jill! Also, special thanks to @arryn-nyx who suffered so much to make this aesthetic just right!!

The Winchester Way. It’s the way of the hunting world. The champions of history make the rules, all others follow in step like the good little soldiers they are. For centuries, the Winchester bloodline has ruled the hunting world with an iron fist. They know everything, have access to all information, and have so graciously taken it upon themselves to train all other hunters in their ways. Effectively, creating a well-trained army against the forces of the Supernatural world.

The Winchesters maintain a large bunker in the heart of the country. Their facilities are vast, allowing them to take in upwards of twenty trainees at any given time. Some trainees are offered as a tribute, continuing the traditions of being trained under the Winchesters that their own families have maintained for decades. Some are obtained, taken with minimal negotiations as the Winchesters see fit, often as payment for their services and interventions.

No one dares complain. The Winchester network is far and wide, their power unrivaled. John and Mary Winchester ruled with great power and some compassion. However, as they grow older, they are looking to retire and withdraw from the hunting world. Their empire thus falling onto the shoulders of their two sons, Dean and Sam. Dean, being the older of the two, has taken on the role of ‘Leader-in-training’. He too ruling as his father before him, but with a significant lack of compassion. He feels compassion only leads to weakness, his reign reflecting the darkness of the world and within himself.

Previously, training regimens consisted of working with the individual, building up their natural talents and making them stronger. But Dean has argued that this only leads to cracks and weaknesses that can be exploited. His beliefs - his new process - is to completely strip and break the soul and spirit of the individual, leaving them blank and ready to be refilled with the skills and knowledge to be the best hunters possible.

* * *

John walked the halls of the bunker, on a mission to find his son Dean. He knew Dean loved hands-on work with trainees, so he would likely be in the underground dungeons. Generations before, the bunker had been modified to provide an intricate dungeon beneath the main facility. The dungeon was used, not only for training, but for housing some Supernatural beings for questioning, training, and -  _educational_  purposes. Dean practically lived in the dungeon, unless he was having his way with a trainee in his quarters.

John opened the door and descended the concrete steps to the dungeon floor, muffled cries and varying screams reaching his ears. Over his lifetime, the sounds became mere background noise, like a ceiling fan whirling in the living room. He made his way through the halls, opening a heavy iron door to a large room.

Dean stood inside, shirtless and in jeans and boots, circling menacingly a crying trainee, tied to a chair.

“Untie yourself.” He demanded, his tone strong and steady.

The whimpering female struggled, blood dripping from her wrists as she continued. She went lax, resting from the struggle. Dean lifted the small blade in his hand and drug it across her collarbone.

She cried out in agony. “I can’t! P-please!” She begged.

Dean scowled. “Begging? I thought I taught you better than that?” He leaned on the arms of the wooden chair, his face inches from hers. “Do you think they’ll relent because you beg them to?!” His eyes burned holes into her. She fought to control her breathing as she struggled with the bindings once more.

Dean drug the blade across her thigh, a deeper cut than before. “You get free and it all stops,” he purred. She struggled against the pain, nearly biting a hole in her cheek to keep herself from crying out and begging once more.

John leaned against the door frame, watching the scene unfold. Melody was a favorite of theirs. She had been with them for six months, offered as a tribute by her family who had all endured the training in their years before her. She struggled in the chair, her blonde locks matted with sweat. Her undergarments - her only protection - were smudged with dirt and stained with blood. With a sickening pop, her thumb dislocated and she managed to break from her bindings, jumping from the chair and leaping at Dean, aiming for the blade. Dean quickly reacted, spinning her back against him, his arms pinning her own, the blade now held to her throat.

“Now was that so hard?” He whispered against her neck, licking a stripe of the sweat and grime from her as he ground his hips against her ass. **  
**

John sighed. “Dean, we need to talk.” He announced. Dean looked up, flashing his father a wicked grin, before releasing Melody with a shove. She fell forward, too weak to stand any longer. Dean reached for a chord on the wall and pulled, a soft chime resonating in the chamber. Moments later, two women appeared, lifting Melody from the ground and carrying her away. Dean watched them leave before turning to the wooden table in the room and cleaning his blade and hands.

“New case?” Dean queried, his focus on his work.

“Not exactly. You remember the Y/L/N family?”

Dean turned to his father, his brow creased. “The twins…uh, Allen and Wayne, right?”

John nodded. “They were some of my first round trainees years ago and became excellent hunters. As far as I know, Wayne is still out there, fighting the good fight,” Dean nodded in agreement, “But Allen retired several years ago, once his eldest reached ten. He wanted to be around for them and remove his family from the hunting life.”

Dean clenched his jaw in frustration. There was an order to things. Hunting families only retired or got out if their children were of age to take over responsibilities for the family. A hunter leaving the life and sheltering his family from it was against their rules, against the Winchester Way. It wouldn’t be tolerated.

“His eldest, Y/N, just turned eighteen. She should be undergoing training. I called Al and spoke to him, but he refused.”

Dean nodded his understanding, pursing his lips. It was time to claim a tribute. He gathered his items, prepared to head for his room and pack a bag for travel.

John stopped him, grabbing him by the arm before he could leave. “She knows nothing about the hunting world or what we do. She has no idea what this is all about.” He paused and smirked. “And I’ve been told she’s one of the best-looking women around, pure as the driven snow.” Dean’s grin grew to match that of his father’s as he nodded his acknowledgment with renewed excitement and interest.  _It was about time for a new personal toy._

* * *

**_A Fine Tribute_ **

Dean parked the Impala in the driveway of a quaint house in a nondescript suburban neighborhood. It was shortly after dinner time, the sunlight waning in the distance. Dean checked his pistol and ammunition, before tucking it into the holster on his thigh. **  
**

“Alright, Sammy,” Dean began, turning to face his brother in the passenger seat. “We’re here to claim Y/N Y/L/N and her father Allen Y/L/N. Dad requested he is brought before them to prove his continued fealty after what happened.”

Sam smirked, pulling slightly at the corners of his mouth. He knew well of the punishments for violating Winchester laws and looked forward to the entertainment.

“Alright, you know the drill. Let’s keep it as quiet as possible. Hopefully, the old bastard doesn’t put up much of a fight.” Sam nodded in agreement as they climbed from the car. Approaching the front porch, Dean knocked on the door, hearing shuffling within. The door opened to reveal an aging male in his fifties, salt-and-pepper hair and beard filling out his thinning face.

Dean smiled a toothy grin. “Mr. Y/L/N!” He proclaimed happily as he forced himself into the home, Sam shut the door behind them both.

“D-Dean?” The man stuttered, clearly flustered. “Please don’t do this.” He whispered, pleading.

Dean slapped an arm on the man’s shoulders, holding him tight as he walked them further into the house and forced the man to sit in a wingback chair in the living room.

“Now, Allen,” Dean began, clicking his tongue as he licked his teeth. “You know better.” He stood before Allen, wagging his finger like a scolding parent. After a pregnant pause, Dean continued. “Where’s the lovely Y/N?” Allen appeared about to protest when a gentle voice rang from the bottom of the stairs.

“Dad? Is everything ok?” The young girl stood, fidgeting with her hands, her brow creased with worry. Dean’s breath caught in his throat for a moment. His father hadn’t lied, she was stunning. Her Y/H/L Y/H/C hair fell about her heart-shaped face. Her Y/E/C doe-eyes were wide and bright. Her purity flowed from her in waves, nearly knocking Dean over with the overwhelming urge to devour her.

“Everything’s okay, Sweetheart. Go back upstairs.” Allen cooed at his daughter, trying to offer a gentle smile. She looked between the large men in the living room, hesitant, before turning towards the steps. Dean met her in two quick strides, gently grabbing her by the arm and turning her towards him.

“Are you Y/N?” He whispered to her, his voice smooth as water as he turned up his charms. She nodded, looking down at her hands. Dean smiled as he lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “You are lovely.” He breathed, emphasizing each syllable with precision.

“P-please, don’t take her from me. She’s not fit for this, she doesn’t know anything about it!” Allen pleaded, attempting to rise from his seat before Sam forcefully pushed him back down into the chair. **  
**

“You know the rules, Old Man.” Dean spat, his eyes never leaving Y/N. “Come on, Sweetheart.” Dean urged, dragging her gently towards the door.

“B-but…” She started to protest, Dean silencing her with a hush and a finger to his lips.

“Sammy, grab Allen.” He turned to see his brother yanking Allen from the chair and forcing him towards the door, nodding his approval. Allen continued to fight, pushing Sam from him and lunging towards Dean. Without a flinch, Dean drew his pistol and aimed it directly at Allen’s head, his stare cold and steady. Allen froze, his eyes on the barrel mere inches from his face. Sam stood and grabbed Allen with more force, his own anger radiating off of him. The brothers placed Y/N and Allen in the back seat of the Impala before driving off towards the bunker. Allen held his daughter close to him as he whispered continued apologies. Y/N’s concern grew as, for the first time in her life, she watched her father shake and shed tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part 2! As always, please heed the warnings!! A special thanks to @sis-tafics as my Creative Collaborator ; ) Thank you Jill so much, for everything.

**_The Council_   
**

Several hours later, the Winchester brothers arrived at the bunker, their captives in tow. Allen and his daughter, Y/N, awoke from a restless slumber. Allen was forcefully dragged inside by Sam while Dean kept a gentle yet firm hold on Y/N’s arm, guiding her through the facility. She hadn’t spoken a word since leaving her home and Dean was impressed. Tributes or claims would often ramble about their excitement or cry and beg for release. But Y/N remained silent. Dean smirked to himself, the thoughts of her obedience during training running through his mind.

As they neared the War Room, Dean noted the members of the council were present, discussing current affairs. While the Winchesters were the governing body, they kept several personal advisors and confidants. Those who had worked with them, trained under them, and earned their way, were offered the option to stay and perpetuate the traditions of the Winchester household in varying capacities. A select few were allowed within the council. Others stayed or returned to become trainers in their own right.

“Ah, Dean, Sam!” John exclaimed, arms wide as he smiled at his sons from the head of the table. “Just in time. And I see you have our guests.” The other council members - Mary, Bobby, and Ellen - turned their attention to the newcomers, leering.

Dean maneuvered Y/N to stand at his right, within sight but out of the way, for the time being, addressing her with a charming tone. “Stay here.” He commanded, pointing a finger close to her face. “Not a sound, not a movement. Do you understand?” Her eyes went wide and she bit her lip as she slowly nodded her understanding. Dean smiled proudly in response. “Good girl.” He purred, turning his attention to his brother. Sam nodded curtly, pulling Allen towards the end of the table to stand before the council.

“Allen Y/L/N…it’s been a few years.” John proclaimed, his former happiness void, replaced by a calm and stern demeanor.

“John… _please_ …” Allen began.

“None of that now.” John waived a dismissal at the transgression. “You know the rules, old friend. If you had followed them, you’d be retiring now. And your sweet daughter would be equipped with the knowledge of what’s to come. Because of your blatant disregard for the Way, we were forced to track you down and bring you here.”

“It was for my family!” Allen pleaded.

John stood abruptly, slamming his hands down on the table, enraged. “Hunters are a united family, with a united purpose. When you left, you disrespected this family, our code, and our ways!” John stood tall, taking in a large breath. “Allen Y/L/N, for your transgressions against the Way, you are sentenced to the gauntlet.” Allen shook, his tall frame suddenly seems small. Sam sneered with delight as he stood behind Allen. John nodded towards his son and Sam quickly grabbed Allen once more, sweeping him from the room. Y/N turned quickly, attempting to chase after her father, screaming out and begging for his release.

Dean firmly backed her against the wall, his whole body pressed against her, his face close enough for his breath to fan over her. “You will remain quiet and you will do as you’re told. Insolence will not be tolerated.” He commanded. Y/N sobbed as she dropped her head in fear.

“Dean,” John’s jovial tone returning as he addressed his eldest. “Present your claim.”

Dean nodded, offering a final stern glare at Y/N, before pulling her forth to stand at the table where her father just stood. “If it pleases the council, I present Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of Allen Y/L/N, firstborn.” The council looked over Y/N, examining every minute detail of her form.

“You eighteen?” Bobby asked, breaking the scrutiny. Y/N looked to Dean, biting her lip.

“You may speak when spoken to.” Dean offered.

“Y-yes.” Y/N meekly whispered, her voice betraying her trepidation.

“What do you know of the supernatural?” John asked next.

“T-the… _supernatural_?” Y/N squeaked in surprise. All present bodies groaned and sighed their understanding and frustration. The council continued to mutter amongst themselves. Y/N caught some details, something pertaining to training and what to do with her. She hoped she hadn’t done something wrong or broken a rule. She didn’t know what the gauntlet was, but she was sure it wasn’t good. **  
**

After several minutes, John hushed the room. “Dean, you will soon be taking over leadership of our endeavors. Therefore, you claimed her, so you will decide her training and assignments. I leave it in your hands.” John stood, helping Mary from her seat and leading her from the room. The other council members took a last glance at Dean and Y/N before exiting as well.

Dean turned to address Y/N once more. “Follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters.” He announced, marching out of the room. Y/N was quick to follow.

* * *

**_The Bunker_ **

Dean walked at a fast pace and Y/N struggled to keep up. He passed from the War Room into the massive Library. Y/N stopped in her tracks and gawked at the many books throughout the room and lining the walls. She had always loved reading. She wondered what kinds of books there were, if they had some of her favorites. As her eyes drifted to a shelf beside her, she noted titles such as Demonology, A History of Possessions in Europe, and Lesser Known Devils. Her brow furrowed at the strange titles. There were several tables in the middle of the room, various people she didn’t know working diligently at reading and taking notes. She walked glacially, taking in the images of Medieval and Renaissance art printed on the pages of some open books.

Y/N raised her head to  attention at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Sam stood on the opposite of a table from her, arms folded across his chest and he glared down at her.

“You better hurry along, sweetness.” He nodded towards Dean a few feet off. “Wouldn’t want to get punished.” He sneered as though the thought gave him great pleasure. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes scanned her over, his gaze once more meeting hers with a predatory glint. Y/N swallowed hard, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in Sam’s presence. She scuttled off in a hurry, finding herself back with Dean as he left the Library and stood in front of a long hallway.

Y/N nearly ran into him, not noticing how quickly he stopped. She noticed a small, red-headed female standing in front of Dean, a clipboard in her hands.

Dean turned towards Y/N. “This is Charlie. She’ll show you to your room and will fill you in on your responsibilities.” Y/N looked to Charlie who nodded curtly before turning her attention back to Dean. “I want her ready for an assessment first thing.” Dean ordered before marching off, leaving Y/N dumbfounded before Charlie.

Charlie scanned her up and down, much as Sam had done before. Y/N quickly noticed the people here loved to shamelessly consume you with their eyes, as if measuring up everything about you. It made her nervous and suddenly very self-conscious. Noting her discomfort, Charlie offered a crooked half-grin before leaving the hallway and heading away from the Library. **  
**

“Keep up!” She chimed over her shoulder as she stomped off. Charlie walked her through the vast facility. In the kitchens, Y/N noted several people working hard to prepare large quantities of food. A view of the bathrooms left her concerned. There were several shower stalls, but with no curtains. People seemed to walk around without humility or shame. As her and Charlie were leaving, she quickly noted a couple in the far off stall growing increasingly passionate. She blushed as she hurriedly turned away. No one else seemed to care.

“One of the many ways to blow off steam.” Charlie whispered, a little too close to her ear, as her eyes followed and locked onto the image Y/N discovered. Charlie noticed the blush in Y/N’s cheeks and how she struggled to look anywhere but at the couple. The muscular male had the tiny female in his arms, against the shower wall, and was pounding into her with great force. The sighs and moans echoed off the surrounding tiles. Still, no one seemed to care. Charlie gingerly lifted YN’s chin with her index finger, guiding her attentions back to the couple as she continued breathing against Y/N’s neck, barely ghosting her lips along her skin.

“Have you ever experienced pleasure with someone else, Y/N?” She asked, nipping at Y/N’s ear. Y/N quickly jumped away from Charlie in surprise.

“N-no.” Y/N stammered, trying to maintain her strength and resolve. “No, I haven’t. And please don’t touch me.” Y/N added with a forced determination. Charlie’s smile dropped, her face cold. She snatched Y/N by the hair, bending her nearly in two, as she scowled at her.

“You don’t make the rules here. You do as you’re told. And I will do as I please.” Charlie commanded before releasing Y/N forcefully. Charlie looked her over once more, this time with disdain. “Unless you want to be punished, I suggest you keep your mouth shut, your ears open, and do as you are instructed.” Charlie spun quick on her heel, marching down the hallway. Y/N followed behind, rubbing her now sore scalp. She would be sure to bring this up with Dean later. Surely, he wouldn’t condone such behavior.

Charlie stopped abruptly in front of a wooden door, embossed with a strange symbol and the number 33 in brass. She pushed open the door to reveal a blank and gray concrete room with a bed, desk, and nightstand. Y/N felt it resembled a jail cell or convent, but with nicer furniture. It was so minimal and drab and she suddenly yearned for home.

“There’s clothes in the closet. Get some rest and we will get you in the morning for your assessment. You may leave to go to the restroom. Otherwise, you are to remain in your quarters until directed to leave. Do you understand?” Y/N nodded meekly in response. Charlie nodded her approval in return before leaving and shutting the door behind her. Y/N quickly fell into bed and cried herself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part 3! Ok, please carefully examine the warnings listed above. If any of these, or the emotions that go with them, are triggers for you, please do not read. This story will continue to have detailed depictions of situations. As always, HEED THE WARNINGS!!! A very special thank you to @sis-tafics, my Creative Collaborator.

**_The Assessment_ **

Y/N barely heard the sound of the door opening in her sleep-addled mind. Before she had time to react, she felt strong hands ripping her from the bed by the shoulders. Before her eyes could fully open and adjust to the light, something was placed over her head, blocking out all light, creating a void. Her hands were quickly bound together and she could feel herself being moved, to where she did not know. Her heart was racing, the pumping ringing in her ears, making it difficult to comprehend the sounds and voices around her. Her breathing was erratic and her mind wasn’t able to form words. Just strangled cries and muffled screams. Her hands and arms ached with the force of being pulled - or was it dragged - to an unknown destination.  _What was happening? Where was Dean? Wasn’t she supposed to be under his care?_

A heavy door was opened. Y/N could hear it’s weight as it scraped across the floor, like metal on concrete. She was thrust forward once more, losing her footing as the floor gave way beneath her. Strong arms gripped her bicep tightly, pulling her back just before she fell. She was slowly guided forward once more - nearly carried - as she realized she was descending steps. The staircase seemed to go on forever. Her body was aching all over and she began to shake with the sudden temperature drop as she went further down. Finally, she seemed to be back on level ground, her steps carrying her forward easier than before. There were sounds of cries and screams in the distance. Sounds of pain, desperation, pleading. She seemed to pass by several people - crying out - being turned in different directions, like walking through a maze.

Her senses were overwhelmed with the scent of sweat, blood, and decay - and something else she couldn’t quite place. Sounds seemed to come from everywhere, bouncing off the walls. She heard the scraping of another door being opened and she was forced forward and down onto a firm surface. She could feel it under her and behind her. Her hands were untied, only to be rebound, her forearms resting against a smooth, thin surface. A chair, she realized, her arms being bound by the wrists to the arms of the chair itself, followed by her legs, tied to the legs of the chair. She wiggled, trying to find some give. But the chair held fast, her bindings too tight.

The cover was quickly removed from her head and she struggled to clear her vision in the oddly lit room, huffing to blow strands of hair from her face. She quickly looked around only able to see so much from her restrained position. It was a concrete room, dimly lit by an industrial pendant light swinging softly above her, casting an eerie yellowed glow over her. She could see a tall table against the wall directly in front of her, scattered with objects she couldn’t make out. The walls of the room looked wet, some sort of mold or mildew gathering in splotches along its surface. She looked down at herself. The chair was bolted to the floor at the legs with brackets, explaining the lack of give. Her hands and ankles were tied with rope, her wrists red from the strain. She heard a door close somewhere behind her, followed by a deep breathing and shuffling steps. The steps grew louder as they approached her, and her heartbeat mimicked their tone and intensity.

Suddenly, a tall and broad man stood before her in jeans and a t-shirt, a thick and shiny apron hung about his frame, resembling a black garbage bag. He crossed his arms as he looked down at her, a vicious snarl pasted across his worn and weathered face. He was bald and muscular, various tattoos covering his arms. Y/N immediately thought of the bikers she’d seen portrayed on TV shows before. She swallowed the lump lingering in her throat, noticing how dry her mouth had become. She tried to speak, but the dryness forced her throat closed, making her cough.

The man dropped his arms to his sides. “Welcome to your Assessment.” He began, slowly circling her chair. “Today, we will begin to determine your limits.” He spoke like a professor welcoming new students to his class. Y/N grew increasingly scared, trying to keep her eye on him while struggling to loosen her bindings.

He stopped before her once more, noticing her struggle. “That’s good. Get free if you can.” He stood waiting, watching eagerly. Y/N paused, watching for any signs that it was a trap or lie. After several moments, she looked back to herself and wriggled her wrists again. Without warning, her hair was yanked back hard, causing her to yelp in pain and surprise.

“Never take your eye off your surroundings. You must always be aware of what’s happening around you.” He released her hair, pushing her head forward with a shove.

Y/N began to sob. “Please, let me go. I-I didn’t do anything!” She met his gaze as his eyes flashed to something behind her before meeting her eyes once more. He slowly shook his head, a look of disappointment on his face.

“Tsk, tsk tsk. Beggin' just won’t do.” He sighed heavily and turned towards the table, grabbing an object and turning to face her once more. He held what appeared to be a riding crop. Y/N’s eyes flew wide and she struggled against her bindings once more. “It’s a simple knot. We’ll be here until you get at least one limb free.” He announced, playfully slapping the crop against his palm as he watched her.

“Where’s Dean?” Y/N demanded, suddenly feeling stronger.  _Why was she being punished?_

The man laughed heartily, his whole frame shaking as he threw his head back. “Oh, honey. You don’t want Dean. He’s not as nice as I am.” He smiled down at her once more. He ran the tip of the crop along the back of her left hand. “This one,” he proclaimed, “I left it a little more loose than the others.” He watched her as she sat completely still, tears running down her face. “Go on.” He chided softly. Y/N kept her eyes on him as she wiggled her wrist again, pulling and twisting as much as she could, to attempt to loosen it further. She felt a slight give and looked at her wrist in shock before feeling a sudden and sharp pain to her right thigh. She cried out from the pain, her sobs growing once more.

“Never take your eyes off your surroundings.” He scolded firmly. “Continue.”

“P-please…please…” Y/N pleaded, falling forward in her chair, the pain, and confusion too much to bear.

The man stroked Y/N’s cheek gently with the crop, then brought it under her chin to lift her gaze once more. “Continue.” He stated, his eyes narrowed and menacing. She continued to cry and beg. He sighed once more before bringing the crop down on the back of her left hand, harder than the last strike. She jumped and yelped, unable to see through her tears. “Continue!” He demanded. She couldn’t do anything but cry, flexing her fingers to try and ease the sting of the strike. Another, then another fell upon her, always a different location than before. She cried out in pain with each strike and struggled harder against her bindings and she continued to beg for it all to stop.

The man returned to the table, throwing the crop onto its surface in defeat. He leaned against the table, looking over the many objects there. Y/N kept her eye on him as she continued to struggle with her binding, feeling it become looser. Her hope swelled as she felt herself nearing freedom. An idea struck her and she leaned forward, chewing on the now loose rope at her wrist, tugging with her teeth. She pulled hard and saw the rope snap. She froze in shock before turning her gaze back to the man. She quickly and quietly used her free hand to pull and tug at her remaining bindings before getting free and standing from the chair. She took careful, slow steps so as to remain unheard as she kept her eyes trained on the man’s back. As he began to turn towards her, she made the decision to turn and run.

As soon as she had, she ran directly into a firm body. Dean stood there, glowering at her. “Going somewhere, sweetheart?” Y/N froze in shock. Dean began to pace in circles around her as he spoke. “You took long enough to get out of your bindings. But you kept removing your eye from Walter. Thought you did manage to get free, you were unaware of the rest of your surroundings, unaware of another presence in the room. If you were captured, you would have been killed.” Dean turned his attention to Walter with a heavy sigh. “You’re too easy on the newcomers. You need a firmer hand or they’ll never learn.” He turned to face Y/N once more. “Walt set her up for Sensory Deprivation. She needs to learn to hone in on her surroundings before anything else.” With that, he turned to leave.

“You were there the whole time?” Y/N squeaked in surprise. “And you didn’t do anything?” She was hurt, a sense of betrayal and uncertainty filling her.

“I never oversee new recruits. But since you’re my pet…” He trailed off with a smirk and a shrug before turning and leaving the room. Y/N fell to her knees as fresh tears ran silently down her face in streams.  _Was this her life now?_  Walter gathered her up and walked her from the room and down a hallway, her shock settling in, rendering her speechless and unable to fight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part 4! So I’m iffy on the warnings here. I may be overdoing it, but I don’t want to underestimate and have someone get upset because I didn’t properly warn them. This part - at least an attempt - is a detailed description of a sensory deprivation situation. (A family member read it and it genuinely induced feelings of being in the situation - according to them.) This situation may cause panic, anxiety, heavy breathing…I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. But if you feel that it might be too much, please don’t read it.

**_Deprivation_ **

Walter held Y/N by the elbow, leading her forward with relative ease as the shock still wore on her system. Her mind swam with confusion and endless questions.  _What was this place? What was to become of her? Where was her father? What did Dean mean by ‘pet’?_

She felt a sharp tug on her arm as she realized Walter had stopped in front of a door. She looked at the closed door before her and up at Walter, her brow creased. He swung the door inward and motioned for her to step inside. She cautiously peered within, surprised to find a storeroom. Several tall, metal storage shelves lined the walls, boxes, and papers stacked amongst them. In the middle of the room was a tall and wide table, also cluttered with random papers and objects. She stepped inside, then turned to look back at Walter.

“Walk to the far side of the room in the alcove over there.” He motioned, pointing to the far wall, a blank space between two tall shelving units. She carefully stepped through the room and stood before the wall before slowly turning to look back at Walter.

“You must exit the room through this door.” He stated simply. Y/N grew increasingly confused. She took in a deep breath. As she was about to step forward, the door slammed shut and the lights went off, leaving her in absolute darkness. She jumped, fear growing within as she tried to fight off a rising panic. She closed her eyes and opened them again, noting no difference in the change of light. She began to wonder if her eyes were shut and she was unable to open them.  _Make it out of the room, just make it out of the room. It couldn’t be that simple, right?_

Y/N began to take a step forward and felt like she was losing her balance. She reached her hands out to the sides and bumped into something hard and cold, a thunk and rattling noises reverberating around her.  _Shelves, I’m in-between shelves._  She took another deep breath, this time sliding her right foot forward and putting her hands out to feel herself step from between the shelves. She moved her arms in front of her, feeling nothing. She suddenly felt adrift in a sea of nothingness.  _What did the room look like?_  She remembered shelves lining the walls and a table in the middle. She nodded to herself as she slid her feet forward again, moving glacially. A few more steps and she jumped as she came into contact with another object. It hit her at the waist. She moved her hands, trying to feel what was in front of her. She felt an odd shape of collected items, her hands feeling what seemed like paper and boxes stacked atop a flat surface.  _The table._ **  
**

She shimmied to the left, her hands following the edge of the table, the scent of aged paper and mildew hitting her strongly. As she focused on the shape of the table, she forgot about her feet as she caught her foot on the table leg. She cursed to herself, before finding the corner of the table. She sighed in relief. Just walk forward several feet and there should be the door. She kept her right hand feeling along the edge of the table as she shuffled her feet forward, one step after another.

Suddenly she jumped, hearing a rustling of something off to her right. She brushed it off as air causing papers to flutter. She gathered her courage once more as she continued moving. A dull thump echoed, more behind her now. She froze and turned towards the source. Through the blackness, she couldn’t make out a thing. Another sound, a scraping, from the other side of the room drew her attention once more as she spun fast, attempting to face the source head-on. More sounds echoed around her and she realized she wasn’t alone. No one was in there when she entered the room and Walter left when he closed the door behind him.

YN’s panic grew and she begged her heart to calm down. She forced herself to move forward once more and quickly ran into something.  _The table? If she was facing the table…which way was out?_  She quickly placed her right hand on the edge of the table, putting it on her right side and began moving forward, using the edge as a guide.

Something brushed past her on the left, a quick breeze of movement, a tickle against her arm. A musky scent hit her in the breeze that wafted past, like sweat and something unfamiliar. She shouted in fear, an automatic response.

“Who’s there?” She demanded, though her voice was weak. A mocking ‘shhh’ answered back, the sound lingering in the air. She felt the hairs rise on her arms as the need to get out of the room grew. She moved forward once more and felt the table end. A few more feet to the door. In focusing on her feet and attempting to calm her heart, she missed the breathing tones moving closer behind her.

Y/N reached out into the void once more, her arms stretched out before her as she swung wildly, trying to make contact with any surface. A tightening in her chest made her feel tears were brimming under the surface. Her breath seemed to come in shorter spurts, the air suddenly thick and damp.  _What’s happening?_  She was sure her eyes were blown wide in terror, but the lack of vision made her try harder to open them, to gather any scrap of a light source or reflection to ease the darkness that blanketed her. She forced herself to go still, dropping her arms at her sides. She focused on clearing her mind and slowing her rapid heartbeat so she could once again focus. The musty odor of the room seemed to fade a she grew accustomed to the air. Her own odor, mixing with sweat and fear, overtook her senses. **  
**

Another breeze, closer, and very warm, tickled at her neck, that unfamiliar scent breaking her focus in an attempt to place it. “You’re further than you think.” The deep voice growled at her. Y/N jumped and spun, falling back on the ground and scrambled away from the disembodied voice. She felt a shelf behind her and grabbed on, using it as leverage to pull herself to standing once more. As she reached for one shelf, something soft and pliant darted out from under her touch with a squeak. Her mind wouldn’t focus as fear took over.  _What was that?_  She cursed again and placed her hand on the shelf for support, but landed on a smooth and slightly grainy surface with edges that gave way from its precarious perch. It fell to the ground around her, its contents spread throughout the room. She spun away, her back to the shelves, as the items narrowly missed her. She stepped forward once more, her feet shuffling along the floor, scraping under the fallen contents. Their weight and sound as they moved made her think again of paper. It must have been a box of files. Y/N continued the dragging motions of her feet focusing on their movement and their sound. She quickly found herself in an area that seemed free of debris. She spun her hands once more about her, trying to find an object. She found the table once more and relief flew in waves.  _I can do this._

Y/N ran her hands along the edge of the table, finding it shorter in length than before. She leaned against it as she thought. If it’s shorter, it must be the side.  _I was near the edge_ …She turned around her back against the table. The door must be over here, she thought, pointing diagonally towards the left. She took several steps forward, her feet meeting the debris once more. Hands out before her, she felt the shelves. She pulled herself along them towards the left and then, once again, the void.

Y/N walked with more certain footing towards where she assumed the door must be. She felt herself leaning forward with each step, begging the door to reach out and touch her fingers. She had moved so far, it had to be right in front of her. Then she felt a hand, nails scraping along her side and fisting in the hem of her shirt. She screamed and battled at the hand, but it wouldn’t give. In a last-ditch effort, she lurched forward and felt a cool, smooth surface. Her hands hurriedly glided along its surface before finding a cold, rounded object.  _The handle._

Y/N grasped it firmly and turned, trying to push at the door, but it wouldn’t budge.  _Walter opened it inwards._  She gripped the handle with both hands and turned, pulling with all her strength, her fear driving her to escape the thing in the room with her. As the door swung open, she was forced back into the being who grasped her firmly by the shoulders. Walter stood on the other side of the open door, light shining into the room. Y/N jumped forward and pushed past him, lurching into the well-lit hallway and sliding down to the floor below, shaking and in tears.

Walter looked at her small and shaking form, then back to the open doorway as a man stepped through. He walked up to Y/N and looked down at her.

“She made it out,” Walter said.

“She had no idea was I ever in the room.” He said as he knelt in front of Y/N. She looked up into his face which was hard and blank - Dean. “We’ll try again soon.” He raised a brow and tilted his head as if in a challenge before standing and walking away, Walter following behind. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Reader has a little rest and relaxation after her rude awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part 5! I would like to thank my Creative Collaborators, @sis-tafics and @negansevilqueen for all of their help and support and feedback. My brain would not cooperate and they helped giggle things loose - seriously, you have no idea! As always, HEED THE WARNINGS!!! I am not that experienced with writing smut, so I hope it’s alright. And feedback is greatly appreciated! : )

**_Recovery_ **

Y/N spent the next forty-eight hours in her room, resting and healing, her food being brought to her room by random people. She attempted to make conversation, but her body was too tired and wouldn’t cooperate beyond a simple ‘Thank You’. As she was beginning to feel revived, Charlie came to her room with a young blonde in tow.

“Y/N, this is Jo. She will escort you to the common showers to get cleaned up before you head over to Kevin for study.” Charlie reviewed the clipboard in her hands, before offering a quick glance and smirk to Y/N and leaving the room. Jo lay a short, white, cotton robe on the end of the bed.

“Change out of your clothes and into this.” She stood, arms crossed, watching Y/N carefully.  _Apparently, privacy doesn’t exist here_ , she thought to herself, turning her own back to imagine she was alone as she removed her dirtied clothes and donned the robe. Jo smiled her approval and waved Y/N to follow her out of the room.

As they approached the common showers, Y/N grew uncomfortable. She could hear several voices within and remembered her view of everyone so naked and within such close quarters. As they entered, Jo led the way to a large copper tub on the far side of the room. Y/N glanced around, noticing several men and women about their business of showering and grooming. The tub was full of fresh water, bubbles, and aromatics. Y/N could see the steam billowing up from the surface and her muscles instantly relaxed at the thought. Jo waiting with an arched brow as Y/N shyly removed her robe and slowly sank into the tub. Her eyes fell closed and she let out a sigh. Just as she started to relax, she felt a hand smooth over her hair.

Y/N’s eyes shot open to see Jo sitting at the head of the tub on a stool, a small table beside her with cloths and various bottles.

“Just relax.” Jo offered as she started pouring water over Y/N’s hair. Jo proceeded to bathe her. Though she felt awkward at the exchange, she could tell there was no room for argument. If she was being honest with herself, she quite enjoyed the pampering after the ordeal. As Y/N felt herself slipping into utter contentment, her relaxation was broken realizing the room grew both quieter and noisier all at once. It seemed several people had left, but a few remained and were… _enjoying_ themselves? The sounds were certainly wet and breathy. After hearing a soft female moan, Y/N opened her eyes and turned her attention towards the sound. Maybe just a glance. After all, she was wholly unfamiliar with and intrigued by sex. **  
**

As Y/N focused on the source, she saw a man and a woman making out. The man, with his broad and chiseled body, had the blonde woman pressed against one of the sinks, her ass on edge, as their hands wandered over one another. As she watched, it took Y/N a moment to register a warmth at her neck. She quickly realized Jo was ghosting her lips barely upon her flesh.

“You like to watch?” Jo whispered seductively. Y/N swallowed a lump in her throat. She was uncomfortable, unfamiliar with the intimate touches she had been receiving from Jo and Charlie previously. But as she felt a warmth building low in her stomach at watching the couple, she couldn’t find it in herself to deny Jo. Her warm breath and light touches seemed to further ignite the arousal building within her and her body screamed for more. Her own hands seemed to wander over her thighs as her legs spread slightly, her fingers ghosting over her mound as her eyes stayed glued to the couple.

The man lifted one of the blonde’s legs high on his hip as he thrust fully within her, causing a shout to erupt from her open mouth. He smirked at her, grabbing a fistful of her hair in one hand, a tight grip holding her leg against him with the other, before kissing her hard and rough, starting a pounding rhythm. Y/N gasped, both in shock from the scene before her, and the feel of Jo’s lips and tongue caressing her neck and shoulder. She tilted her head slightly, allowing Jo more access as her own hands began a soft searching of her folds. The entire scene seemed surreal, the pleasure both from arousal and the hot, aromatic tub, creating a euphoric, blissful plane.

As Y/N began to succumb to the abundance of sensory overload, her eye caught Dean entering the shower room, only a towel secured around his waist. Her eyes locked onto his muscular torso and arms and she suddenly felt her fear and arousal growing at the mere sight of him. It was a terribly confusing sensation that caused her body to jerk and her hands to cease their prying. He flashed a glance to her and Jo with a sinister smirk, before turning his attention to the undulating pair beside him. Jo’s lips kissed the shell of Y/N’s ear as she whispered to her.

“He wants you to watch.” Jo let her hands trail over Y/N’s shoulder and began kneading her breasts and tugging at her nipples. Y/N gasped, the attention of all glancing at her momentarily. The blonde held the man to her as her eyes met with Dean’s.

“That’s enough, Kyle,” Dean said in a low and commanding tone. Kyle continued his ministrations, pumping even harder into the blonde. **  
**

“I-I’m so close.” Kyle whimpered, his muscles tensing as he pumped furiously, the slapping sounds echoing off the tiled walls. Dean quickly reached up, grabbing Kyle by the hair and forcefully yanked him from the blonde. Kyle and the girl both whined in protest as Dean eyed up the man before him before pushing him by his still held hair down to his knees. Without a word, Dean glared at him, then turned his attention to the blonde.

“Melody, my dear, hands on the sink,” Dean spoke with a calm and even tone. Melody nodded before turning, hands on the sink and ass in the air. Dean removed his towel, dropping it beside him as he placed his hands on her hips, letting them glide over her sides as his eyes devoured her. Y/N could see both Melody and Dean in the mirror, the pair making eye contact with her as Dean slammed hard into Melody. His jaw clenched as he held Y/N’s eyes, thrusting harder and faster with each passing moment. Y/N’s hands found her core again and she slipped two fingers inside as Jo kept up her ministrations of kisses, licking, and fondling.

“Cum,” Dean growled, his eyes locked on Y/N’s in the mirror. Both she and Melody cried out as their orgasms ripped through them, leaving them spasming from the intensity. As Melody came down, Dean pulled himself from her and turned his attention and throbbing cock to Kyle. Dean fisted his cock as he stared down at Kyle with a raised brow.

With slight hesitation and shame, Kyle looked from Dean to his cock, and leaned forward, licking the tip. Dean growled deep in his chest before Kyle took him fully into his mouth. Kyle moaned at the combined tastes and he sucked with fervor, desperate to please. As Kyle’s hand came up to cup and roll Dean’s balls, he sucked harder and faster. Dean captured a fistful of his hair, gritting his teeth against the pleasure. With a loud moan, Dean came hard, his cock pulsing as his salty load rushed into Kyle’s mouth and out the sides. Kyle obediently took the offering, continuing to suck until Dean pulled him off with a loud ‘pop’. Dean leaned down and picked up his towel, shooting an unreadable glance to Y/N, before entering one of the shower stalls. Kyle and Melody gathered their things and left in a hurry.

“Time to get dressed. You have lunch and then study with Kevin.” Jo said, removing herself from Y/N and holding up a towel for her to step into. Still, under shock from what had just happened, Y/N nodded dumbly before doing as she was told. She changed into her robe once more and followed Jo. Y/N risked a glance back at Dean, seeing only his backside as he let the water from the shower run over his beautiful form. She swallowed hard again before leaving to follow Jo.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Y/N learns about The Way and speaks with her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Part 6! Fairly tame chapter. I would like to thank my Creative Collaborators, @sis-tafics and @reigningqueenofwords for all of their help and support and feedback. I would also like to thank @winsister91 and @jensensjaredsandmishaslover for listening to my ramblings and helping me sort my thoughts. Seriously, this part wouldn’t have happened without all of these people’s help and encouragement. And lastly, thank you to my followers and the TWW tags for being so patient and understanding while I tried to get my writing back on track. And as always, HEED THE WARNINGS!

Y/N was led into the library and introduced to Kevin. He seemed friendlier and less abrasive than the others. He sat her down at a table, away from others, and placed several papers and books on the table before them.

“So, today you’re going to learn about The Winchester Way.  _Our_  way. Can’t expect you to follow the rules if you don’t know them.” He chuckled, more to himself. “Most people who come here know about the Way or hunting in some fashion. You’re the first I’ve worked with who was completely oblivious.” He sighed, reaching for a paper before him and handing it to Y/N.

“Is this a letter?” She asked, looking over the typed document. Kevin nodded in response.

“Known as ‘The Winchester Way’, the Winchester Doctrina was established in 1822 by Elijah Winchester. After hunting the supernatural for twenty years, he had established a following of younger hunters who he had trained in the art of hunting. Before his passing, he created the Winchester Doctrina, a letter to his son all about his beliefs and practices. His son, Ezra Winchester, was to take over leadership of the followers. The select few, who had been with Elijah since the start, referred to themselves as the Winchester Elite. The Elite - six altogether - consisted of the hunters and their families: The Singers, The Harvelles, The Campbells, The Fitzgeralds, The Trans,” he paused, smirking at her before continuing, “and The Y/L/N. These six families, under the leadership of the Winchesters, upheld and expanded upon the Winchester Doctrina, forming what was eventually known as The Winchester Way.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she glanced at the paper in her hands. “The Y/L/N?” She whispered to herself.

“Yes. You’re of one of the founding families. It’s a shame you didn’t grow up in the life. You’re considered legendary by default.” Kevin waited for Y/N to meet his gaze once more. “Your father was a great hunter, one of the best. He and John fought together for many years.”

Y/N nodded numbly in response. She wasn’t sure what to think of all of this. After what she had endured so far, she understood why her father would try to protect her. But she also didn’t understand, if it was so important, and their family so entwined, how could he keep it from her? She looked back to the letter in her hands.

“Read the letter, then we’ll talk.” Kevin sighed, grabbing a book and leaning back in his chair to read it. Y/N stared at him a moment, then back to the letter, letting out a big sigh before reading.

_My Son,_

_You have grown up understanding the shadowy world in which we live. For you, it is normalcy, it is the way things are. However, most people are not accustomed to this and never will be. When I first came into this world of the paranormal, I was overwhelmed. It was against all that I had known and learned within my life. But I was fortunate enough to be taught and guided, allowing me to fight and to teach others._

_I did not understand why so many people went it alone. They fought alone, lived alone, and died alone. Throughout history, any effort that has been brought to fruition consisted of several people, banded together for a single cause and purpose. Why should our world be any different? There were others who agreed with me and followed my teachings. I never intended to be a leader. Merely pass on my teachings and help us all to bind together against the forces of the paranormal._

_What has come to be is more than I ever anticipated or dreamed. We are an order. We are a united front against evil. Hunting things and saving people, that is our motto, our way. And as my life comes to a close, I turn to you, my dearest Ezra, to continue what has been built._

_Save people, teach them our ways, guide them to be the strongest and most effective force that can be. Grow the ranks, and eradicate the evils of this world. The Elite families have sworn their continued support to the cause, their children will continue the fight. Find other hunters and bring them into our family. Surely Heaven will await us all in the end._

_With Love and Blessings,_

_Elijah Winchester_

Y/N read and re-read the letter several times. She didn’t understand. How could this letter of a dying man, a man with a mission to protect the world from the darkness within it, become a mantra for whatever was happening within these walls? Surely, this was not what he had envisioned? She turned to Kevin, a million questions swimming in her mind.

“You should speak to your father.” Kevin offered, rising from his seat. “He will face the Gauntlet soon, and you are entitled to visit with him before then.” Kevin took the letter from Y/N before placing a large book before her. She read the title and glanced at Kevin in confusion. “It’s like an introduction to the supernatural,” He shrugged, before walking away. Y/N’s focus was on the book before her as she opened it up, curious about what lay within.

Y/N suddenly felt hands upon her shoulders and a breath at her ear, causing her to jump reflexively. “Study well. You will be quizzed.” She turned her head to see Sam grinning at her, a gleam in his eye. He glanced at her lips, licking his own, before squeezing her shoulders and walking away. Y/N wasn’t sure what made her more uncomfortable. The fact that she hadn’t known he was there. Or that she was quickly realizing his predatory desire for her.

* * *

Later that evening, Y/N was escorted by Jo to the dungeon to see her father. Upon reaching the base of the steps, Jo provided her directions to find a man named Gadreel, who managed most activity in the Dungeon. Jo hastily took off back up the steps, leaving a confused Y/N to gaze around and try to remember the route that she was provided.

A few turns found Y/N at the end of a long hallway, lots of voices and sounds of various activities floated around and bounced off the walls, filling her with curiosity and fear. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her nerves, before taking the first few steps forward.

The first door she came to on her right was open. She gazed inside, gasping at the sight. What appeared to be a large werewolf was suspended, wrists shackled apart in the air, feet chained to the floor. The creature was snarling and howling. A man and a woman worked around the beast, the woman handing items to the man who used them on the beast. The werewolf would snarl or howl in anger or pain. The woman would take notes on her clipboard and provide another item to the man, continuing his efforts. Y/N covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her gasp as she hurried past the door. The next few rooms seemed to be similar, various creatures - some she had heard of, some she could never have imagined - being held, tested, observed.

She made it down the hall and turned right, knowing she should find this Gadreel person somewhere nearby. All the doors in this hallway were closed, small windows with bars adorning their surfaces. She peered into a few, seeing what looked like normal people being held.  _Were these all prisoners?_  As she reached midway down the hall, a tall man with chiseled features and short blonde hair came down the opposite end of the hallway. His eyes immediately found hers and he stopped in front of one of the doors. Y/N stopped a few feet from him.

“You must be Y/N.” He spoke, his tone cold and formal. “I am Gadreel. Your father is in here.” He gestured to the door on her left. Her eyes drifted to the door, hurt filling her at the thought of what he must be enduring inside. He continued to speak as he pulled keys from his pocket to unlock the door. “You have fifteen minutes. I’ll lock the door behind you. Once your time is up, I’ll let you out.” He pulled the door open wide, gesturing for her to enter. She glanced into the darkness of the cell and back to Gadreel before nodding and cautiously making her way inside.

Before her eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, the heavy metal door slammed shut behind her, causing her to jump. The sound of the lock sliding into place sent shivers down her spine.

“Dad?” Y/N whispered cautiously to the darkness, taking a careful step forward as she searched the silhouettes of the room.

“Y/N/N?” A hoarse and weak male voice returned. She recognized it as her father’s, but the brokenness of his tone unnerved her. She watched as a shuffling from the corner approached her. As the figure drew closer, the light from the barred window cast an eerie glow across his face. Enough for her to see it was him, but to also see he had endured a harsh beating. She gasped at the sight, rushing into his arms.

“Dad? What did they do to you?” Y/N ushered him to the dirty cot in the corner, urging him to sit as she took a seat beside him.

“I’ll be fine. Nothing worse than anything I’ve endured before.” He chuckled softly, more to himself.

“What is going on here? What is all of this?” She pleaded, desperate for information. Allen sighed heavily.

“I never wanted this for you, any of it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I thought that your mother and I could leave, could have a normal life, to give you a normal life.” Y/N held his hand in her own, waiting for him to continue. “There’s a whole ‘nother world out there, Sweetheart. Monsters are real. Nightmares are real. And these people, people like who I used to be, live their lives fighting off and killing those monsters. We save people…or at least, we did.” His voice died off in sadness. He sniffed before sitting up straighter, taking a deep breath.

“As one of the Elite families, I grew up in this life. I was proud of our legacy and the work we did. We saved people, we saved the world. It wasn’t glamorous and it was all virtually unknown, but it meant something. It was important.” He stood from the cot and began an absentminded pacing of the room as he spoke.

“John and I grew up together. We hunted together. We were best friends. I remember how excited I was for him when he took over leadership from his father. John was a good man and was bound to be an even better leader. He understood that a gray area exists sometimes and that rules and traditions needed to evolve with the times. I would have followed that man anywhere!”

“What happened then? Why did you leave?” Y/N asked, suddenly feeling as though everything she ever knew was a lie.

“Because of Mary,” Allen stated, meeting his daughter’s gaze for the first time. “We were on a hunt, John, Mary, and I. It was a nest of vampires, nothing we couldn’t handle. We split up and John protested, but Mary insisted. After we cleared out the nest, we met back up to find one last vampire had Mary hostage. Knowing he was going to die regardless, he ripped out Mary’s throat before our eyes, before we could do anything to stop him.”

“But Mary…she’s alive…”

Allen nodded. “John couldn’t take the grief of her death. He couldn’t handle leadership and raising his sons without Mary by his side. So he made a deal. Not just any deal. A long-term deal involving a ‘truce’ and ‘partnership’ with the King of Hell, Crowley. In exchange, Crowley brought Mary back. Neither her nor John have been the same since. A darkness crept into John after her loss. Though he was relieved to have her back, it was too late to save himself. He got worse after that. Shut down any threats or questioning to his leadership, made his own rules, and started living life more and more on the dark side. I couldn’t stand to watch what he’d become and what was happening to The Way. Knowing you were on the way, I made the decision to leave, to disappear. I didn’t want that for you, for our family. It wasn’t right. And I never looked back.”

Y/N sat in silence, absorbing all she had heard, trying to make sense of it all. After several long minutes of silence, she stood, her hands balled in fists at her side.

“Do you know what they did to me?” She growled. “Do you know what I had to endure? I had no idea what was happening! I didn’t know who these people were, that this world even existed! And I’ve been thrust into things I couldn’t even imagine! I wasn’t prepared!”

Allen rushed to his daughter, attempting to embrace her and calm her, but Y/N pushed him away.

“No!” She shouted. “I’ve learned of The Way. Of what it is, what it was supposed to be. Our family are Elites. We have a responsibility as much as the others to ensure The Way is followed and continues.”

“It changed!” Allen pleaded. “John changed!”

“And  _YOU_ had a responsibility to stand up for what’s right! To stand up for The Way! But you didn’t. You ran and now…now look what it’s become!”

“There’s no changing it back. John is too far gone. Soon, Dean will take over and he’s worse than his father! There is no coming back from that!”

“You didn’t even try.” Y/N whispered. “I am so unprepared because you hid me from this. You never told me. And now I have to find my way through this alone and unarmed.”

“Y/N/N…”

“No.” She wiped the tears from her eyes as she marched to the door.

“I go to the Gauntlet soon,” Allen called after her.

Y/N slowly turned to face him once more. “The Gauntlet?” She barely whispered. Allen nodded.

“It’s a Hunter and Monster battle arena. A Hunter’s version of gladiators, I suppose.” He shrugged. “I might not make it out.”

“And if you do?”

“If I do, I’ll be forgiven. But only if I rejoin The Way.”

“Will you?” Y/N demanded. Allen stayed silent, his eyes falling to his feet. Y/N shook her head, her disappointment and hurt overwhelming her. “Goodbye, Daddy.” She whispered, before knocking on the door. Gadreel opened the door and let her out, closing it and locking it swiftly behind her. Allen stared at the door, his life flashing through his mind.

“Goodbye, Y/N/N.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Y/N attends the infamous ‘Gauntlet’ and prepares to watch her father fight for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As always, HEED THE WARNINGS! This part!! Ugh! Ok, so I had this planned for a looooooong time. But the idea of what I wanted to do intimidated me so much, because I wanted it to be just right. I’m not great with “action” writing. But this had to be done and is such an important turning point in the story. My concept for the Gauntlet is based off of “The Thorn” from Fallout 3. Think gladiators in an industrial setting. I really, really hope you like it! : )

**_Previously…_ **

_“I go to the gauntlet soon,” Allen called after her._

_Y/N slowly turned to face him once more. “The Gauntlet?” She barely whispered. Allen nodded._

_“It’s a Hunter and Monster battle arena. A Hunter’s version of gladiators, I suppose.” He shrugged. “I might not make it out.”_

_“And if you do?”_

_“If I do, I’ll be forgiven. But only if I rejoin The Way.”_

_“Will you?” Y/N demanded. Allen stayed silent, his eyes falling to his feet. Y/N shook her head, her disappointment and hurt overwhelming her. “Goodbye, Daddy.” She whispered, knocking on the door. Gadreel opened the door and let her out, closing and locking it swiftly behind her. Allen stared at the door, his life flashing through his mind._

_“Goodbye, Y/N/N.”_

* * *

Hey, Sam, can we talk for a minute?” Dean whispered to his younger brother, leaning in so as not to be heard by anyone.

“Sure, Dean,” Sam responded, his brow scrunched in confusion. Sam followed his brother into his room, checking that no one was around, before closing the door behind him. “What’s up?”

“The Gauntlet is today.” Dean sounded… _concerned?_

“Yeah, and?” Sam said, quickly losing interest in the conversation.

“Y/N’s father is gonna be in it. And, I just have this… _feeling_ …that something…”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute…” Sam raised his hands out in front of him, halting Dean completely. “This isn’t about the  _girl_ , is it?” His tone now teasing as he looked down at his brother with a smirk, his hands resting on Dean’s shoulders.

“What?” Dean shoved Sam away from him. “No! This is not about some  _girl_.” Dean scowled at his younger brother. Sam seemed mildly amused at Dean’s reaction. “This is about The  _Way_ ,” Dean said in much quieter tones. Sam rolled his eyes and scoffed. Dean shoved at him again.

“You used to believe in this man!” Dean shouted, his temper getting the better of him. “You used to talk about how Dad was losing his mind and Mom was already far gone.” He softened, moving closer to Sam. “You were gonna get outta here, man. What happened?” He breathed out the last words, letting himself relax after the exhale.

* * *

_Sam hurriedly shoved clothes and belongings into a duffel, grabbing it and his backpack and slinging them over his body._

_“You sure about this, Sam?” Dean asked him, clearly concerned for his younger brother._

_“I gotta get out of here, Dean. I’m the youngest. I don’t have that responsibility like you do. And I want a normal life, away from all of…this.” He gestured around him, hissing the words through clenched teeth._

_“I know.” Was all Dean said as Sam turned to leave the bunker, ready to head off to college and start a normal life completely away from the hunting world, from The Way, from John._

_Although it was the middle of the night, the bunker still had several people awake or keeping watch. Sam kept to the shadows, creeping past anyone who might be near until he made it to the front door. He closed the door behind him, letting the cool, crisp night’s air wash over him, feeling it’s promise of freedom._

_Gathering himself, Sam quickly jogged up the few steps and towards his vehicle, parked off in the distance. Just as he reached the car, he heard someone approaching. He spun but was quickly caught up by two men, grabbing his arms, the third standing in front of him. Sam put up a good fight, managing to get loose and lay a right hook to the man in front of him. As the man stood, wiping the blood from his jaw, the other men grabbed Sam once more. All of their eyes flashed black and Sam’s heart sank into the ground._

_“Stop!” An order was heard, the one man gearing up for a retaliating punch withdrawing. Sam became confused as Crowley stepped from the shadows, standing before him. “Surprised, Moose?” He crooned. Sam’s anger boiled within him. “Come along then.” Crowley spoke with a smirk before Sam was knocked unconscious._

* * *

“Yeah, well,” Sam shrugged. “I changed my mind.”

“Wha-you changed your mind? You completely changed!”

“Yeah, well, some of us understand we have responsibilities, Dean,” Sam uttered, turning and leaving the room. Dean didn’t know what to do, especially without his brother’s back up. But he knew what he had to do. He had to go to the Gauntlet and put on a show. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

* * *

_“LADIES AND GENTLEMAN…”_ **  
**

Y/N could hear the deep male voice rumble through the loudspeakers all around. She was shuffled into the abandoned power building above the bunker, several others excitedly trying to get to their favorite viewing spots. As she entered the building, Y/N stopped in awe to look around.

The core mechanics that used to reside in the building had been removed. The center dropped down to a pit that was at least twenty feet deep. All along the top edges, overlooking the pit, were balconies of varying size, allowing the spectators to see everything. The building was packed to capacity with hunters and members of The Way. The room vibrated with their jumping and wailing, the conversations, the excitement of the event. Y/N felt her stomach churn, knowing she would see her father in that pit and not knowing what was to come.

Y/N was ushered to a seat just next to the somewhat boxed in Elite seating for John and his family. Several members of the council were seated close to them. It seemed the more important you were, the closer you sat to the Winchester box. Y/N wondered why she was situated to sit next to what she soon discovered to be Dean’s seat.

“Well, Hello again,” Dean said, taking his seat between his father and Y/N, offering her a wolfish grin. “And what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, biting his lip as his eyes shamelessly scanned over her body. Y/N wanted to curl up into herself and disappear. She didn’t realize she had been leaning away from him until Jo, seated next to her, pushed her back towards Dean.

“She’s an Elite and her father is in the Gauntlet,” John said to be heard by both Dean and Y/N. “Besides, we wouldn’t want her to miss this, would we?” He sneered, turning his attention back to his friends, and fellow Council members.

Before Y/N could say a word, the arena burst forth with shouts and cheers as an older black male, stood on a farther platform with a microphone, addressing the assembly.

“Welcome, welcome all to the Gauntlet.” He sneered the last line, building excitement within the crowd. “Today we have for you, not one, not two, but THREE scheduled fights in the arena!” He paused to let the crowd scream and shout their approvals.

“First for you today, are two young hunters, attempting to pass the trials and become full-fledged Hunters. Please welcome to the arena, Melody, and Kyle.” He sang out their names, gesturing to the two Hunters as they entered the pit from a door in the far wall. They each had a few weapons on them, not much, and were holding them up, waving to the crowd.

“For our first round tonight, these young hunters will be facing…” He paused for effect, allowing the excitement to build, “Ghouls.” He finished. The sound of another door opening drew Y/N’s attention as three men, seemingly human, entered from the opposite end of the pit. The Hunters and Ghouls clashed in the middle of the arena, surrounded by the shouts and jeers of the audience. They thrashed about, fighting for their lives until the two Hunters bested the Ghouls with decapitation. The audience cheered and clapped, the building seeming like it may collapse from the thunderous noise.

The announcer continued on, presenting another round of monsters. This time, a female werewolf was released. She charged at the Hunters, catching them off guard. After several minutes of fighting, the werewolf had Melody slung across the arena and was now hovering menacingly over Kyle, ready to lay a deadly blow. As she was about to bite, she froze and fell to her side beside Kyle. He hurried to his feet, seeing a silver blade emerging from the beast’s back. Melody was barely standing, having thrown the blade from a distance. **  
**

Melody and Kyle held onto each other, checking over their wounds, and realizing the true threat of death if they did not succeed. Tired, covered in blood and gore, they breathed heavily, waiting for their final round.

It came in the form of a pair of Vetalas. It was apparent neither Melody or Kyle knew anything about the creatures, placing them at a disadvantage.  _How could they kill it if they didn’t know its weaknesses?_  They fought for a long time, Melody gaining leverage over one of the Vetalas, straddling it and stabbing down into its chest, twisting the knife with a shout. As the body began to disintegrate and crumble beneath her, Melody shouted to Kyle, who was wrestling with the other Vetala. He saw Melody rushing towards him and quickly moved to knock the remaining creature on its back before Melody finished it off.

The assembly erupted in cheers as the pair of Hunters tiredly leaned on one another, grateful to be alive. Dean had been studying the pair intensely the whole time. He smirked a bit with pride, watching as Melody bested one creature after another.

“And here they are folks, your newest Hunters, Melody and Kyle!” The audience cheered and various items flittered to the floor of the pit. The Hunter pair began gathering up what they could, finding money, jewelry, artifacts, and weapons, all presented as prizes and gifts to the winners.

“Rufus is a natural.” John beamed as he watched the events, referring to the announcer. Dean nodded in agreement before turning to observe Y/N. She was tense, on edge. The gladiatorial style battle clearly new to her. Dean placed his hand on her thigh above her knee, causing her to jump.

“It’s so brutal! So barbaric!” Y/N said, more like a plea, to Dean. He nodded in agreement before removing his hand and adjusting in his seat.

“So’s life.” He quipped his rapt attention back to the events below. Y/N wondered how someone could be so cold and uncaring. It sent chills down her spine in the worst way.

“Our first law as Hunters,” Rufus sang, pointing to the sky with a fist for emphasis, “Is you shall not kill another Hunter or cause that Hunter to be killed due to inaction or malicious intent. For our next contender,” Rufus’ tone changed from excitement and revelry to disgust and contempt as he spat his soliloquy. “We have a betrayer.” The audience booed along to his words. Echoing the tenets of The Way and leveling curses upon those who broke them.  

Y/N watched as a large, middle-aged man was flung into the arena, landing unceremoniously on his face. He quickly shuffled to his feet, turning back towards the door he came through, shouting something that could not be heard over the din.

“Greg Henderson,“ Rufus addressed the man in the pit, “You have been found guilty by the Council of The Way for the murder of a fellow Hunter. For your crime, you will fight in the arena. Should you prevail, your crimes will be forgiven and you will be allowed to return to The Way.” **  
**

Y/N quickly noticed that unlike Melody and Kyle before him, Greg was not equipped with any weapons, except for a small switchblade, held tightly in his hand. His eyes scanned the crowd, his accusers, and listened to the harsh profanities and curses thrown down upon him.

Rufus turned then towards where the Winchesters and other Elite families were sitting. “Will any of the Elite families sponsor?” He asked. Y/N got the impression the whole scene was ceremonial.

“Only the Elites can sponsor someone,” Dean said, leaning in towards Y/N. “If they choose to do so, they can offer a gift, like a weapon, to help him in battle.” Y/N looked at him, letting his words settle in her mind. She looked over at the families then, all of them whispering or shaking the head in disagreement. She looked back down to Greg in the pit, concerned for him.

“Then let’s begin!” Rufus shouted, the crowd alive and chanting once more. The far door opened once more, and Y/N held her breath, waiting to see what would come out next. A man appeared. Except he had blood on him, a wild a feral stance. “Rugaru!” Rufus shouted to the pleased audience.

Y/N remembered reading briefly about a Rugaru. If she remembered correctly, you needed to set them on fire. Greg, in the pit, had only a small switchblade to defend himself. That’s when she realized. He never stood a chance, he was set up to die.

Y/N watched on in horror as the Rugaru tore apart Greg’s body as he struggled to stab at it and fight it, to no effect. The crowd let out a roar as Greg’s blood burst forth from his throat, his flesh hanging from the teeth of his killer.

Y/N saw Gadreel enter the pit, a large gun in his hands. He aimed it at the creature and fired. A net flew out and captured the Rugaru, knocking him to the ground and tightening enough to immobilize him. Several people came out and collected the creature, carrying him back to the dungeons where the monsters were held. Y/N looked on as several others cleaned up the dismembered body of Greg and carried it away on a stretcher.

Y/N couldn’t look anymore. She gasped, turning her head from the scene and trying to fight off tears. The Elites and Winchesters glanced over at her and her reaction. Some were looks of sympathy, some sneers of disdain. Dean looked at her and empathized with her, if only for a moment. All of this, new to her. And to know her father was next. He hoped Allen could fight his way out of this. Then maybe things could get back to normal and Y/N could accept this life.

“For our last competitor, we have a well-known Elite of the Y/L/N clan. Here to defend his honor and be allowed the chance to rejoin The Way, Allen Y/L/N!” The crowd cheered, louder than ever before, as Allen took to the pit. Some people were chanting his name, like a great warrior. Y/N swelled with pride and awe, seeing that her father was so well-known and respected within the community, even if he had left it. She wondered what stories he had yet to tell her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Y/N attends the infamous ‘Gauntlet’ and prepares to watch her father fight for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Continuation of Part 7. Haha…just remember ya’ll love me. ; ) I did do research on various monsters that have appeared in the show and made selections based off of that. I wanted to showcase a variety. Please note that I have taken some artistic liberties for the story’s sake (it’s a story!). As always, feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“For our last competitor, we have a well-known Elite of the Y/L/N clan. Here to defend his honor and be allowed the chance to rejoin The Way, Allen Y/L/N!” The crowd cheered, louder than ever before, as Allen took to the pit. Some people were chanting his name, like a great warrior. Y/N swelled with pride and awe, seeing that her father was so well-known and respected within the community, even if he had left it. She wondered what stories he had yet to tell her._

* * *

Dean had explained to Y/N how the Elite families were revered within the community. He went on to embellish a little on Allen’s background. He was well-known and respected as a legend within The Way. He lived by The Way and had numerous hunts in which he was outnumbered and facing terrible odds, but always came out on top. Allen had actually been in charge of training new hunters when John first took leadership of The Way. He had also stated, with a hint of -  _something odd_  - that, aside from initial trials, no Elite has ever had to face the Gauntlet. This was unprecedented and new territory.

Y/N was shocked, to say the least. She knew her father as a kind but firm man, gentle in everything he did. To learn that he was a hardened warrior, a seasoned and capable Hunter, was difficult for her to process. She watched as Allen stretched and shrugged, jumping up and down in place, readying himself for what was to come. She could see it was her father but somehow didn’t recognize him. The crowd erupted with chants of “Y/L/N, Y/L/N!”, to deafening volumes. Allen seemed focused, not playing into the crowd. He chanced a glance up to the Winchester box, offering his daughter a reassuring smile before his eyes landed on John with a hardened and steady glare. Y/N could see John smiling in response as he nodded his head to acknowledge Allen.

Before she could process further, Rufus came over the loudspeaker once more. “Now, our disgraced Elite is well-known for his Hunting skills.” The crowd roared their approval at his words. “None quite so much as the hunt with our esteemed Leader, John, in their youth.” John’s face showed clear disapproval at the mention of the hunt. “So, for your viewing pleasure, our first round will be a…reenactment of sorts.”

The cage door opened and five vampires were released into the arena. Y/N’s heart sank as she scooted to the edge of her seat. Just like Greg, they were setting him up to die. She begged and pleaded and screamed in her head, desperate for someone to save her father. Much like Greg before him, Allen was equipped with a single weapon. It looked to be an ornate and large machete. Dean, once again, provided background to Y/N.  She learned that this weapon was her father’s favorite, one he hand-crafted himself, made of pure silver and etched with various magical markings. He always carried it with him and although he was allowed only one weapon since he was disgraced, as an Elite, he got to choose. It was no surprise to anyone who knew him that the blade rested comfortably within his hands once more.

As the vampires slowly approached Allen, he didn’t move. Simply rolled his head, stretching his shoulders, and adjusting his grip on the blade. The vampires moved to surround Allen and he held his ground, not moving, not even looking directly at any of them, seeming to stare at the ground. The first one lunged towards him from his right. He didn’t hesitate, swinging his blade so quick, Y/N wasn’t sure she even saw him move. The vampire’s head rolled to the ground, the body slumped where it stood. The other vampires snarled and bared their teeth, coming at him all at once.

Allen moved quick as lightning, swinging his blade about him and shoving the creatures away from him. Within moments, two more vampires lay beheaded on the ground, their blood soaking into the dirt beneath them. As the remaining two vampires stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to pounce, Allen took a moment to acknowledge a gaping wound on his thigh and one on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure how or when it happened. Y/N shouted in fear, seeing his wounds. She couldn’t just watch her father die. John found himself amused by her reactions.

The final two vampires lunged at Allen simultaneously. Allen rolled to the side, narrowly missing being tackled, and swung his blade, laying a gruesome gash across the back of one of the vamps. He quickly turned, kicking the uninjured vamp away from him as he rolled again, taking the head of the injured vamp clean off. The final vamp, frothing at the mouth with rage, came at Allen. Still in a crouch, his back turned to the oncoming vamp, Allen swiftly turned and stood, swinging his blade and decapitating the final foe in one smooth movement.

Silence. Followed by the uproarious cheers of the assembly, the shouts of his name once again reverberating off the walls. Allen turned then, wiping the blood off his blade and onto his pants. He stood, defiantly, staring down John. He was breathing heavy, the pain of his injuries wearing him down. John scowled, displeased with Allen’s success. “Again!” John shouted angrily, impatient for the next round.

“A magnificent success!” Rufus sang, instigating further excitement and cheers. “On to round two!” Y/N couldn’t breathe. Everything faded away as she clung desperately to the rail in front of her, trying to will her father to succeed, to survive. Never in her life had she seen such fighting, except for in movies. His moves were fluid and looked choreographed. Her heart swelled with awe and pride, while her body trembled with fear and trepidation.

No one came to remove the bodies of the fallen vamps. Instead, the door opened once more, releasing a new wave of terror. The audience collectively gasped in horror at the creatures that came forth. Four large wolf-like creatures came forth, their cat-like tails whipping behind them as they walked. They were large and black, covered in fur, with glowing red eyes. Y/N had never seen anything like it, and apparently, neither had anyone else.

“What in the Hell are those?!” John demanded, turning to Sam, who was in charge of, amongst other things, ‘Monster Management’.

Sam wore a proud smirk as he turned his attention to John, his eyes capturing Dean and Y/N as well. “Gorilla-wolves, from Purgatory.”

“Purgatory?” Dean asked, confused and amazed. “How did you manage that?”

“I have my methods.” Sam shrugged. “We’ve been studying them for some time now. This is really the first time we’ll get to see them in action.”

All eyes turned then to the large creatures slowly prowling towards their prey. Allen held a wide stance, his blade raised and ready, and his eyes darted between the creatures with panic. The first one broke off, running forward in an instantaneous flash, knocking Allen off his feet and to the ground with a loud thud. Allen recovered quickly and spun on the creature, only to be clawed down his back by another who seemed to move with the same instant speed. He fell to his knees, crying out from the gash upon his back. Another came towards him, but Allen managed to roll out of the way just in time, swinging his blade in an arc. He managed to slice the beast from neck to belly as it flew over his head, landing dead and bloody a few feet away.

The other gorilla-wolves appeared to be caught off guard by the death of one of their pack. Allen took the opportunity to gain his footing and back himself against a steel pillar. The first wolf charged at him then. Allen’s eyes went wide and at the last minute, he quickly stepped to the side, causing the animal’s full force to headbutt into the column. The creature fell to the side unconscious as Allen limped from his injuries, trying to face the other two wolves. Allen shouted defiantly, charging the one on the left and catching it off guard as he jumped and landed, thrusting his blade deep within the animal’s spine and twisting, killing it instantly. The third wolf took advantage of his momentary distraction to latch onto Allen’s shoulder and bite down hard.

Allen cried out in agony as the blood oozed from his open wound. He reached across his body and punched the wolf in the nose with all he had. The wolf released him, whimpering, and shook its head, ready for more. Allen stood, tossing his blade between his hands, hunched over and waiting for the wolf to strike. He and the wolf charged at each other at the same time, colliding in shouts and growls. The wolf was on its hind legs, its front arms over Allen’s shoulders, trying to bite at his head. Allen was straining under the weight of the creature, his muscles flexing taught under the stress. His blade dropped from his hand, causing him to break his attention. The wolf took advantage, knocking Allen flat on his back. Allen held his forearm up, the wolf latching onto it and Allen screamed. He reached for his blade as the wolf’s teeth tore at his arm, blood spilling down all over Allen’s body. His fingers stretched, barely latching on to the handle of his blade, as he forced it between their bodies, shoving upward through the wolf’s neck, twisting and ripping to the side, causing a partial decapitation. The wolf slumped forward, it’s dead weight covering Allen. The crowd erupted in cheers once more, the jumping and stomping causing the foundation to shudder with the strain. After crawling out from under the beast, Allen hobbled over to the final, unconscious wolf and unceremoniously stabbed it through the head, ending the battle.

“This is an outrage!” John screamed, jumping up from his seat, his face red with fury. “Take care of it!” He said, turning to Dean. Dean’s eyes went wide at the order.  _Was his father telling him to kill another hunter?_  John noticed his son’s hesitation and reluctance, his anger growing. He would deal with the insubordination later. Hopefully, no one noticed.

John then shouted to Rufus, surprisingly heard clearly over the din. The audience quickly hushed at hearing John’s booming roar. “End this!” He demanded of Rufus, pointing down towards Allen. Rufus looked confused, glancing between Allen and back to John. The assembly went silent, as they too were confused and shocked at the turn of events.

“Kill him?” Rufus asked in shock and dismay. “But, he succeeded. He can rejoin The Way.” He tried to sound upbeat.

“I will NOT rejoin The Way. Not so long as its tarnished and lead by a tyrant!” Allen spat with what little strength he had left.

“End it!” John demanded again, glaring at Rufus. Once more, Rufus looked down at Allen. He was barely alive, bloodied and shredded. Rufus knew Allen, had worked with him back in the day. Like Allen, Rufus believed in The Way. But seeing Allen in his current state, yet still fighting, sparked something within him.

“I will not,” Rufus said, barely able to be heard. He turned to face John then, his face showing his determination. “I WILL NOT!” He shouted again, his voice echoing off the walls of the silent arena. John growled, baring his teeth.

“Careful, Rufus.” John spat, staring the man down. Rufus straightened his stance, standing tall and raising the microphone to be clearly heard.

“You have lost your way, Old Friend,” Rufus spoke. The assembly mumbling hushed whispers amongst themselves. “This is not The Way! Your Tyranny has gone too far!” Rufus stood tall and proud, glancing down to Allen who briefly tapped his fist against his chest before raising it in honor of Rufus. Several members of the audience mimicked the gesture, while others scowled or mumbled. “Hunters do not kill other hunters.” He finished, dropping the microphone.

John glared at Rufus and ticked his head to the side, raising his brows. He smiled, leaving his seat and walking towards Rufus’s platform. His smile grew wide, charming even, as he approached the seasoned hunter and announcer. He grabbed Rufus by the back of the neck, whispering to him.

“You always did talk too much.” He said before drawing a large hunting knife from his side and stabbing it deep into Rufus’ chest. A collective gasp rang through the assembly. Rufus’ eyes went wide as he looked down at the knife protruding from his chest, blood dripping from his lips, before John quickly retracted the blade, releasing Rufus and watching him fall from the platform. He fell with a sickening thud to the ground a few feet in front of Allen, his eyes wide and staring lifelessly.

Allen looked up to see John smirking down at him from the platform.

“JOHN!” Allen screamed, issuing a challenge. John jumped down into the pit, rolling as he landed, graceful and intimidating. “You are guilty of killing another Hunter,” Allen added, striding towards John with his blade at the ready. John let out a laugh before meeting Allen’s blade with his own. John took advantage of Allen’s wounds, laying a heavy blow to his injured shoulder, causing Allen to scream out and fumble. John seized the opportunity, dropping his own blade and taking up Allen’s in his hand, before swinging and beheading him where he stood. The assembly fell silent. The only sound heard was the agonizing screams from Y/N as she watched her father’s headless corpse fall to the ground. Dean held onto her from behind to keep her from falling over the rail. He was too in shock to comprehend what had just happened, let alone do anything about it.

“Let us not forget,” John shouted to all in attendance, his arms outstretched to his sides, “that the  _Winchester Way_  is the  _only_  way. My word is the law! And insubordination will be met with swift justice!” He eyed all in attendance, waiting to see if any other challengers would arise. As it remained silent, he scoffed, throwing Allen’s blade onto his corpse before unceremoniously exiting the arena.

“I’ll kill him! I swear it!” Y/N said through clenched teeth as her tears fell unhindered. Dean held onto her still, not knowing what else to do. For one of the first times in his life, Dean Winchester was truly terrified.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: John, Dean, and Sam talk about the events of the Gauntlet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! This part actually came to me pretty easy after the whole Gauntlet thing (cause that was tough, believe me). It’s a little shorter, I’m sorry, but it was a good stopping point. Let me know what you think of the story so far. Feedback is always appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“Let us not forget,” John shouted to all in attendance, his arms outstretched to his sides, “that the Winchester Way is the only way. My word is the law! And insubordination will be met with swift justice!” He eyed all in attendance, waiting to see if any other challengers would arise. As it remained silent, he scoffed, throwing Allen’s blade onto his corpse before unceremoniously exiting the arena._

_“I’ll kill him! I swear it!” Y/N said through clenched teeth as her tears fell unhindered. Dean held onto her still, not knowing what else to do. For one of the first times in his life, Dean Winchester was truly terrified._

* * *

_“Please, I’ll do anything.” John cried, gazing through his haze of tears down at the body of Mary. Her lifeless form hung in his arms, blood gushing from the gaping and shredded bite wound in her neck._

_“Anything?” The man in the suit said to him, waiting patiently for John’s response._

_“Anything,” John whispered, meeting the man’s red eyes. The crossroads demon had appeared shortly after Mary’s death. She, John, and their partner Allen were on a hunt. They were in the process of clearing out a rather large nest when Mary was caught off guard._

_She missed a vamp as she cleared a room. The male snatched her up quickly as a human shield. He squared off with John and Allen, John worried sick for his wife. The vamp, seeing he would die, either way, moved in a flash, ripping a large chunk of flesh from the side of Mary’s neck and dropping her body. John immediately ran, sliding the last few feet on his knees across the floor, gathering Mary in his arms. He didn’t need to worry about the vamp. He knew and trusted Allen. They had fought together for years, were best friends. By the time John had Mary in his arms, the vamps’ head bounced off the ground and rolled away, the body slumping and falling forward._

_“Mary,” Allen whispered in shock and horror, her lifeless eyes and blood-drenched body staring at him. His heart broke and when he saw John’s state, he worried if that would ever happen to his own wife. Never had a death hit so close to home. It shook him to his core._

_A bright flash and Mary sucked in a deep breath, arching off of John’s lap and slamming back down. John jumped in surprise, wrapping his arms around her and checking her wound. As he wiped at the blood, no source could be found underneath. Her neck was healed. John cupped her face as he cried and laughed simultaneously, looking as though he may explode. He hugged her tightly to him, frantically gathering fistfuls of her shirt as he shamelessly and heartily cried and laughed, pulling back to kiss her periodically. Mary stared at Allen with wide and worried eyes. Allen couldn’t help but notice something was off with her. Not just the look she gave him. But something was…missing…in her eyes._

_“I’ll be in touch.” The demon said, his British accent thick, “Oh, and the name’s Crowley.”_

* * *

John stood, leaning against the door frame, his arms and legs crossed as he watched Mary. She sat on the side of the bed, her back turned to him. She did this every night now. Just stared silently off in the distance for a while. He couldn’t talk to her, couldn’t get through to her when she was in this…trance. **  
**

John turned his attention quickly to the sound of someone clearing their throat. As he turned he saw his sons, Dean and Sam, standing at attention. He forced a small smile, closing his bedroom door and walking down the hallway to his office, his sons hot on his heels.

“How’s Mom doing?” Dean asked, breaking the silence as they walked.

John turned his head, smiling at his son, before looking ahead once more. “She’s doing ok, Dean. The, uh, trances seem to be happening more often and for longer periods. But otherwise, she seems to be as good as she can be.”

Dean now forced a smile, glancing at Sam who seemed to care less, and back to his father. As they got to his office, John gestured for the boys to enter the room, following behind them and closing the door. Dean and Sam stood tall and straight, a mere foot between them, ready to receive their father’s guidance as they were trained to do.

“So,” John says, standing behind his desk, but not sitting. “Let’s talk about the Gauntlet, hmm?” He calmly spoke.

Dean glanced at Sam who showed no reaction and rolled his eyes as he knew this would be another debate he would have to have. Years ago, Sam was the one to argue and convince Dean that things weren’t right, keep him level-headed. But after Sam went to college and came back, he completely changed. He didn’t seem to care about anything, didn’t react to anything, and simply did as he was told. A perfect soldier.

So it had been up to Dean to speak up, only when he felt things were truly wrong. He had the scars to show each time he attempted to stand up to his father. And after each one, he forced himself to give in, do it his father’s way, and do whatever he damn well pleased. It was an endless cycle and he wasn’t looking forward to another.

“What happened in there?” Dean asked, trying to stand tall and not be intimidated by his father.

John’s eyes shot to Dean, cold and calculating. “And what  _particular_  thing are you referring, son?”

“Hunters do not kill other hunters, Sir,” Dean stated. His heart began to beat faster and he tried his best to remain calm. He kept momentarily closing his eyes, each time seeing Y/N crying, screaming, cursing in his arms. And each time he opened them again, he tried his damnedest to shake it. He couldn’t afford to be affected by her in any way. **  
**

John rounded his desk as he approached his son. “Why don’t you man up and say what you gotta say, son.” John challenged, licking his lips with a grin in anticipation. This was it, this was the moment. It happened every time. Dean could backtrack and work his way out of it, keeping his mouth shut and carrying on. Or, he could say what he had to say and pay his pound of flesh for it. But every time, he chose the latter, and he didn’t understand why.

“You  _murdered_  Rufus,” Dean dropped his eyes to meet his father’s, growling through clenched teeth in an attempt to hold himself back. “And then you murdered Allen, in front of everyone!” He shouted, his skin starting to flush with his anger. “You broke our main tenet and expect not to be punished or challenged? This is not what we’re supposed to be-” Dean was cut off as his father slapped him hard across the face, Dean stumbling from the force. He stood once more and John took several steps, his body pressed against Dean’s threateningly. Before he could react, John had Dean bent backward over a table, his forearm across his throat. Held high in his right hand, John held his large blade, still coated in Rufus’ blood, ready to strike down on Dean.

“You think you can challenge me, son?!” John was a snake, ready to strike. Dean’s eyes were wide. He quickly glanced over to see Sam standing, his arms crossed, expressionless as he watched. John shook Dean, slamming him back against the table. “Pay attention when I’m talking to you! YOU THINK YOU CAN CHALLENGE ME?!”

Dean’s throat went dry. He couldn’t speak. He hoped Sam would say something, do something. Sam would never let things get this far. But now he was just  _standing_  there. Dean was left wondering how his entire family had gone mad. When Dean failed to respond, his eyes wide and mouth fluttering open and closed like a fish, John stood and released him with a toss to the ground.

“Allen’s daughter seems a bit too lively,” John said, his tone and demeanor returning to normal as he adjusted his clothes and breathed deep and evenly. “She seems on the verge of insubordination. I suggest you handle that now before it gets out of control.” He nodded to Dean, taking his seat finally behind his desk. It wasn’t a suggestion. John was ordering Dean to work over and punish Y/N. Dean nodded, turning and leaving the room, not even bothering to acknowledge his brother. Dean would go and bury himself in his father’s orders, as was his punishment and cycle for speaking up.

“I want you to keep an eye on your brother,” John said, talking to Sam after Dean was out of earshot. Sam stepped forward towards the desk, relaxing and dropping his arms to his sides. “His little antics are starting to become a habit.” John stood, walking to Sam and placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Make sure he does what he’s told. And uh,” John smiled, his eyes seeing the necklace and pendant Sam wore, tucked under his shirt. He grasped it gently, pulling it out from its cover and laying it back against Sam’s chest. It was a small silver orb with several bands, the bands engraved with various symbols. In the center or the orb was a glowing blue light, muted by its cage. “Check back in with me, ok?” He patted Sam on the chest, Sam nodding in agreement before tucking the necklace back into its hiding place and leaving the room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Y/N adjusts to life after the death of her father. Dean becomes increasingly concerned as things seem to fall apart around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! Okay, we’re getting REALLY dark now. I tried to be a little more suggestive than truly detailed with some of the trigger themes here. I also put (*****) before and after the scene, which is short, in case you want to skip over it. But remember, this whole piece is about pushing boundaries. Feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“Allen’s daughter seems a bit too lively,” John said, his tone and demeanor returning to normal as he adjusted his clothes and breathed deep and evenly. “She seems on the verge of insubordination. I suggest you handle that now before it gets out of control.” He nodded to Dean, taking his seat finally behind his desk. It wasn’t a suggestion. John was ordering Dean to work over and punish Y/N. Dean nodded, turning and leaving the room, not even bothering to acknowledge his brother. Dean would go and bury himself in his father’s orders, as was his punishment and cycle for speaking up._

_“I want you to keep an eye on your brother,” John said, talking to Sam after Dean was out of earshot. Sam stepped forward towards the desk, relaxing and dropping his arms to his sides. “His little antics are starting to become a habit.” John stood, walking to Sam and placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Make sure he does what he’s told. And uh,” John smiled, his eyes seeing the necklace and pendant Sam wore, tucked under his shirt. He grasped it gently, pulling it out from its cover and laying back against Sam’s chest. It was a small silver orb with several bands, the bands engraved with various symbols. In the center or the orb was a glowing blue light, muted by its cage. “Check back in with me, ok?” He patted Sam on the chest, Sam nodding in agreement before tucking the necklace back into its hiding place and leaving the room._

* * *

**_Reader POV_ **

_Now I lay me down to sleep_

_I pray the Lord, my Soul, to keep_

_And if I die before I wake_

_I pray the Lord, my Soul, to take_

Every night since my father died, when I’m sent to my room for the night, I take a moment. I fall to my knees beside my bed and hope my prayers are heard. Because I’m sure I’m going to die.

Those precious few moments after my prayer and before I fall asleep, that’s where I remember my father and my life with him. That’s when I remember watching him battling courageously in the Gauntlet. That’s when I remember John killing him.

But tonight, tonight I don’t pray. I beg. Because I can’t live another day, I just can’t. Today, my training started up again. Dean saw fit to tie me to a chair in the dungeon and tortured me with his blade while he told me to escape. When I couldn’t, he sighed and untied me from the chair. He told me to get out of there, screamed at me to run. I wasn’t sure if it was another game or not, but I ran. I took off down the hallway. I ran through the dungeon and upstairs to the main Bunker. I just had to get to my room, then I could figure something out. **  
**

As I got to my room, I stopped to catch my breath. I jumped when the door slammed shut behind me. I turned, seeing Sam leaning against the closed door, his hand on the doorknob.

“Sam?” I asked, hesitant and cautious. Sam had never been in my room before. And from the looks he was always giving me, the way he stole touches, I didn’t want to be alone with him.

He raised his hands to his lips, clasped in a steeple, then dropped them once more before smiling, his dimples deep.

“You know,” he started, sounding a little too happy, as he took slow steps away from the door and towards me, “it occurs to me, and to my father, that you don’t seem to want to play by the rules.” Sam quirked up his eyebrows, shaking his head at his disapproval.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” My heart was racing and I had to get out of there. The closer Sam got to me, the further he got from the door.  _Maybe I could jump over the bed…_

“I know you want to leave us.” He teased, drawing ever closer. I had to take a few steps back myself, nearly bumping into my nightstand. “And I know you think you can get revenge.” He added with a sneer. “But I won’t let that happen.”

He took another step towards me and I bolted to the right, running over my bed and towards the door. Sam was there in a flash. He caught me just before I reached the door, wrapping an arm tightly around my waist, another fisting in my hair. I cried out, kicking my legs to try to get free.

He spun me and slammed my back against the wall beside the door. My head bounced off of it hard and I became dizzy. Sam grabbed me by the throat and shoved me down onto my bed. His hand around my throat tightened, the veins popping in his arm with the strain. I couldn’t breathe, and then I blacked out.

********

There were images, flashes really. Sam’s hair tickling my face. He was shouting, saying terrible things.  _Flash_. My leg hurts, I think he’s grabbing it. I can feel his fingers digging into my thigh.  _Flash_. I’m aware now, as Sam is on top of me, rocking harshly, but I’m numb.  _Flash_. A pendant. A silver orb with a light inside it, hanging from Sam’s neck.  _Flash_. I’m sore and bleeding, laying on the bed. Sam is walking out the door and closing it behind him. I can hear his laughter as he moved down the hall.  _Flash_.

********

“Who are you?” I managed to croak, sitting up from my bed as I came to once more. There was a man in a suit and trench coat in front of me. I had never seen this man in the Bunker before.

“My name is Castiel, and I’m an Angel of the Lord.” The man said in a deep timber, sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. I cringed away from his touch, but couldn’t really move much.

“Are you here to take me away?” I asked, trying to cry but unable. He lifted his hand over my head and I attempted to move from his touch once more. His bright blue eyes bore into me and I relaxed. I was healed. All of my injuries were gone, not a trace of them left. No evidence of what had been done to me.  **  
**

I didn’t want to be healed. I wanted to be free!  _How am I supposed to face them?_  Castiel seemed to sense my anger and unease and instantly vanished. I screamed out and the tears finally came.

* * *

**_Castiel POV_ **

I came to visit Dean often, late at night, when everyone else was asleep or unaware. I didn’t like Hunters much, especially this lot. But, Dean was different somehow. He had a light, deep inside of him. He wanted to save people, hunt monsters. But most of his time was wrapped up in the politics and training of The Way. I disagreed with most of his antics, but I supported his general vision. It was important no one knew of me. I didn’t trust them and they’d just as soon lock me in their basement of horrors with all of the other non-human beings.

I met Dean, many years ago, in his youth. It was the first time he stood up to his father with a passion, shortly after Sam had left. John had thrown him in a cell in the basement and showed up daily to beat and torture him until Dean was ready to be the soldier and Leader-in-training that John needed him to be. John wouldn’t tolerate any question or opposition to his leadership and power, most especially from his sons.

I heard his prayers one night after he had been beaten and bloodied so bad he swore he was going to die. And he might have if I hadn’t shown up. I healed him and we talked. I came back to him when things got really bad, when he lost his way or will or strength, or when he called, which wasn’t often.

I had heard Y/N’s prayers every night. But it wasn’t until Sam assaulted her that I came to her. It reminded me of Dean when I first met him. She too had a light deep inside, a fire and passion that I’m not sure she was aware of. I healed her, and then I went to Dean.

“Dean.” I popped into his room as he was sitting at his desk. Dean jumped before becoming irritated.

“You can’t just pop up like that, Cas!” He growled, standing from the desk to face me. “I didn’t call you.” He stated coldly. He was bottled up, shielding himself from the outside world, but I could see through it. He was losing his grasp on reality and questioning what he believed in and if it was worth it.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I saw Y/N.” Dean’s arms dropped and he became tense. I could tell he wasn’t pleased.

“Wait, you  _saw_  her? When?” I could hear his thoughts, clear as a bell. He had sent her away but didn’t follow up to see if she was gone. He was worried something happened to her and it was his fault for not saving her.

“Just now. She’s in her room. I had to heal her.”

“You had to heal her?!” Dean was frantic now, running his hands through his hair. “What happened?”

“Sam was waiting, in her room. He, uh-” I couldn’t bring myself to speak about what happened. I didn’t understand humans and their emotions all that well, but I knew enough that the events made me feel wrong. I could only imagine what it would do to him. **  
**

“What happened?” Dean growled, attempting to invade my space and intimidate me. I took pity on him, and on Y/N. I couldn’t speak it, but I could show him what I saw when I healed her. So I did. It was the first time I was ever frightened by a human, by Dean. His face was stone, his eye twitching slightly, as his jaw clenched and his skin turned red. After several minutes, when he didn’t speak, I knew there was nothing to be said. I left, with nothing more to do, while Dean sat in his room and formulated a plan to stand up to John. This had gone too far. John was out of control and it needed to be handled before more people -  _their people_  - started dying.

* * *

“Is it handled?” John asked, looking at his son standing before him. It was the middle of the night. He and Sam were having these “meetings” more often.

“She knows her place,” Sam stated, shrugging.

“Like we discussed?” John added, raising his brow.

“Yes, Sir,” Sam added, expressionless.

“Good boy,” John said, patting him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s hope Dean doesn’t need a talking to as well. Hopefully, breaking his  _toys_  will be punishment enough.” He flashed a toothy grin. Sam nodded in response. Something clicked in the back of his mind that he should be bothered by all of this, but he couldn’t seem to make himself care.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Dean talks to Y/N, then decides to have a talk with John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! There’s a lot of different things happening here. I hope it reads well and isn’t confusing. Feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“What happened?” Dean growled, attempting to invade my space and intimidate me. I took pity on him, and on Y/N. I couldn’t speak it, but I could show him what I saw when I healed her. So I did. It was the first time I was ever frightened by a human, by Dean. His face was stone, his eye twitching slightly, as his jaw clenched and his skin turned red. After several minutes, when he didn’t speak, I knew there was nothing to be said. I left, with nothing more to do, while Dean sat in his room and formulated a plan to stand up to John. This had gone too far. John was out of control and it needed to be handled before more people - their people - started dying._

* * *

_John sat at the crossroads, waiting for the demon named Crowley to show. He was about ready to give up and head back home when he finally showed._

_“I told you I’d be in touch.” Crowley crooned, his accent thick. John turned to face him._

_“She’s not the same. What did you do?” John asked, an edge to his tone._

_“You simply asked for her to be brought back. I did that. Now -”_

_John stepped forward, his anger seeping through. “What did you do to her?!”_

_Crowley rolled his eyes, irritated that John wouldn’t move past his line of questioning. “Where did you think she went, hmm? Maybe she didn’t want to be back.” John froze, listening to Crowley’s words and their weight. “Now, about our deal.”_

_“You want my Soul?” John stated more than questioned, dropping his head._

_“No, actually.” John met his eyes. What could a crossroads demon want if not his Soul? “I want to make an arrangement.”_

_“What sort of arrangement?”_

_“Ah yes, well,” Crowley said, down to business as he made lazy strides. “It occurs to me that two men in our positions could benefit from an accord. I’m right sick of you Hunters interfering with my demons and my plans.”_

_“You expect us to turn our backs to demon activity and just let them run free?” John shouted, contemplating killing the demon where he stood. **  
**_

_“No,” Crowley said, eyeing up John carefully. “I expect you to turn your back to MY demon activity.”_

_“And if I refuse?”_

_“Then I send Mary back.” Crowley shrugged, feigning indifference. “Think of it as gaining an ally.” Crowley smiled, before disappearing. John cursed under his breath. He wouldn’t lose Mary again. Whatever the cost, he couldn’t lose her, not again._

* * *

Dean watched Y/N for a few days. He wanted to talk to her, but he wasn’t sure how. Castiel had shown him what he had seen, from Y/N’s mind. Dean saw Sam. His stomach churned every time at the thought. Dean blamed himself. One, because he didn’t make sure she got out of there. He just let her go. Two, because it was his brother, his family, that had done all of this to her. And last, because he cared. Enough that his father saw it and hurt her to get to him. He didn’t know why he cared. Dean Winchester didn’t give a  _damn_. And yet…

Dean observed Y/N going through her daily routines. She would train with Walter in the morning, learning different fighting styles or being subjected to one of their carefully crafted tortures. He watched her in the afternoons when she went to study. She never looked at Sam, never talked to him. She didn’t talk to anyone, kept her head low, and just did what was expected of her. Sam, to his credit, never went near her. He’d eye her from the far side of the room, an unreadable look on his face. But he never went near her, never spoke to her.

Dean watched her for three days before he was forced to face both of them. Y/N was in the study, like any other day. However, today, she went to retrieve a book from the shelf and Sam slid in between her and the bookcase. She jumped, never raising her head. Sam eyed her for a moment, before reaching up and gently, lovingly, placed his hand on Y/N’s cheek. He gingerly forced her head up and waited for her eyes to meet his. She was terrified and stiff. As Sam started tilting his head and smiling, leaning in, Dean rushed across the room. He grabbed Y/N by the arm and pulled her behind him as he stared down his brother in silence.

Sam glanced around the room, seeing several people looking up at the disruption, and then they quickly looked away again.  _Better to pretend not to notice than to be noticed for noticing something you shouldn’t have._  Sam looked over Dean’s shoulder at Y/N, winking when he caught her worried eye. Y/N quickly looked back to the ground, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Dean didn’t say a word. Just stared down Sam, a silent challenge. Dean grabbed Y/N by the arm once more and rushed her from the room. Once they were down the hall, Y/N panicked at seeing how angry Dean was. She had wondered what she did wrong. Dean opened the door to his room and threw her inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Y/N turned to see Dean standing there, angry and pacing, trying to calm himself down. Y/N’s mind flashed back to the image of Sam standing between her and the door and began to cry.

“Please,” She begged, not knowing if she had the strength to do it all again. “Please. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run. I won’t run again, I swear it. Just, please.” She was choking on her sobs. Dean stopped pacing and stared at Y/N as she fell apart. Then he too remembered some of the flashes from her mind.

“Y/N, no.” He said as softly as possible, holding his hands up in front of him. “I know what happened.” He added and Y/N immediately sobbed harder, turning red from the strain. Dean took a slow step towards her and Y/N jumped, eyeing the various weapons around the room. “Whoa, hey,” Dean said, a little more firmly, taking another slow step towards her. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Y/N’s sobs were quieting down and she was shaking as she tried to calm herself.

“It was my fault. I should have made sure you actually made it out. I couldn’t afford - I didn’t know anyone knew. But John knew, somehow, he knew. And I’m pretty sure he did all of this to you to get to me.” Dean relaxed, standing straight and dropping his arms. Y/N eyed him in silence.

“Knew what?” She whispered her voice stuttering from still crying.

“That you - that  _I_  - it doesn’t matter. The point is…I’m sorry.” He breathed out the last words, letting his shoulders slump. Y/N nodded, looking to the ground and wrapping her arms around herself. Dean walked to stand before her and reached to place his hand over her crossed arms. She flinched in response and he quickly withdrew, cursing himself under his breath.

“John won’t get away with this, any of it.” He said. Y/N lifted her head to look at him then, something in his tone resolute. His jaw was set and clenching. “I swear it.”

* * *

After seeing Y/N to her room, Dean went back to his own and spent the next hour giving himself a pep talk. He was going to talk to John. If Dean was going to be the next Leader of The Way, he needed to act like it. He took a deep breath before leaving his room and walking towards his father’s office. The whole way, he continued to play through the script in his head of what he would say and how it would go.

He stopped in front of the door to his father’s office. He rested his hand on the doorknob and let out a long breath before straightening his shoulders and knocking, opening the door slowly. John beckoned him in with a holler.

“Ah, Dean,” John said, smiling as Dean entered and closed the door. He gathered his strength and walked up to his father, his nerves on end. Dean heard a shuffle and looked behind him to see Sam stepping forward from his place behind the door. “You’re right on time!” John laughed as Sam snatched Dean up, holding his arms behind his back so he couldn’t move.

“Sam, what the hell?!” Dean shouted, trying like hell to break free. John grabbed him by the face, forcing him to look at him.

“I heard about the little scene in the Library earlier.” He spat his grin now wicked. “You don’t learn, do you?”

Dean tried to get his arms free, but Sam’s grip was too strong. Before he could react, John reached back and punched him full force in the nose. Dean slumped forward and Sam released him, letting him fall to the floor. John continued to strike at Dean with all he had as Dean quickly lost his ability to fight back, blacking out on the ground.

Dean came to as he was thrown onto a hard concrete floor. It was dark, and the floor was rough and damp. The smell surrounding him was awful, like decay. He glanced up to see Sam, standing in the doorway.

“Don’t worry Dean,” Sam said, slamming shut the iron door of one of the cells and peeking through the barred window. “I’ll take good care of Y/N for you.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: What happened to Sam when Crowley took him? Sam decides to pay a visit to Y/N.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! Wasn’t really sure on the warnings here. Please let me know if I missed some. I figured it was about time we gave Sam a little more attention. As always, feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_Dean tried to get his arms free, but Sam’s grip was too strong. Before he could react, John reached back and punched him full force in the nose. Dean slumped forward and Sam released him, letting him fall to the floor. John continued to strike at Dean with all he had as Dean quickly lost his ability to fight back, blacking out on the ground._

_Dean came to as he was thrown onto a hard concrete floor. It was dark, and the floor was rough and damp. The smell surrounding him was awful, like decay. He glanced up to see Sam, standing in the doorway._

_“Don’t worry Dean,” Sam said, slamming shut the iron door of one of the cells and peeking through the barred window. “I’ll take good care of Y/N for you.”_

* * *

_Sam woke up in a daze. He quickly realized he was laying, strapped down to a table, unable to move. He tested his bindings to find no give. He began to panic, looking around his surroundings with blurred vision._

_“He’s waking up. We should begin.” He heard a woman say, barely able to make out the red of her long hair. Sam dropped his head back to the table in frustration. The woman came to stand over him, looking down at Sam with a reassuring smile. “Hello, Samuel.” She cooed as she arranged several items on a smaller table beside him._

_“Who are you?” Sam demanded, still trying to break free._

_“Who we are doesn’t matter.” Sam’s head shot to the accented voice, seeing the man in a suit from earlier watching intently from a distance. “You won’t remember anyway.” He added with a quirk of his brows._

_“Let’s just get this over with.” Sam’s head turned again, shock and confusion on his face at the sight of his father, watching Sam with a pained and angry expression._

_“D-Dad?” Sam questioned, his fear and confusion growing. “Dad! Dad, what’s happening? Get me out of here!” Sam yelled at his father, twisting at his bindings once more._

_“I can’t let you leave, Sam,” John said, walking to the end of the table at Sam’s feet. “I let you leave, and others may try to leave too.”_

_“What?” **  
**_

_“I can’t afford any signs of weakness in my Leadership.”_

_“Your Leadership?!” Sam screamed, trying to get away from the woman’s touch as she lay a large, bronze bowl over Sam’s torso._

_“The Way is too important. I’m sorry.” John stepped back from the table. Sam tried to fight off tears, gritting his teeth, trying to will enough strength to his limbs to break free._

_“This might hurt.” The red-headed woman added, placing different ingredients into the bowl._

_“Just get it over with already, Rowena!” John shouted in impatience. Sam hoped he would change his mind._

_“I won’t leave. I promise. I’ll stay.” He pleaded._

_“I know you won’t,” John said finally._

_Rowena began chanting and the sounds of her voice echoed in Sam’s ears. The bowl erupted in flames and Sam screamed, a searing pain jolting through his every nerve, down into his bones. His chest felt like it was cracking open. His body went tense with the strain as his screams echoed off the walls around them. Finally, he went silent, his head slumping. He saw a blue light hover in the air above him._

_Rowena grabbed a pendant, holding it in the air above Sam’s body while chanting. The blue light danced its way into the orb, it’s light fading once encaged. Sam, exhausted and aching, barely holding on to consciousness, watched as Rowena placed the pendant in John’s hand._

_“It’s done.” She stated. John examined the pendant in his hand and smiled, watching as Sam gave into unconsciousness._

* * *

Sam stood in front of the long mirror in his room. He had been staring at himself for several long minutes. His eyes wandered over his clothes, his body, looking into his own eyes and he saw nothing staring back. His eyes were drawn to the leather string around his neck. He lifted his hand, gently grasping the string and running it’s hand down its length, pulling forth the pendant from its hiding place beneath his shirt.

He looked at his reflection once more, his eyes focused on the pendant and the blue light that seemed to be pulsing within it. His father had given it to him as a gift when he returned from attempting to go to college. John said it would protect him. Said it was because Sam had decided to stay with the family, with The Way, and live up to his responsibility as an Elite and Legacy.

Sam never understood why he left to begin with. He loved his job, his responsibilities, and he was good at it. Under John’s guidance and Leadership, Sam found a place in the world. But he long wondered why he didn’t  _feel_  anything.

He thought about Y/N. That little bell rang in the back of his mind once more, like a far-off alarm ringing through the air. He knew what he did was wrong. He knew most of everything he did just wasn’t… _right_. But still, he didn’t  _feel_  anything about it. He resisted the urge on numerous occasions to ask John about it, about how he was feeling, or  _not_  feeling. But he knew better. He knew doing so would put him in Dean’s predicament, or worse. **  
**

He tucked the necklace back into his shirt, shaking his arms and shoulders to rid himself of the ridiculous and dangerous ideas floating around in his mind.  _Y/N_. Sam decided he would go see Y/N. That would make him feel better. After all, he did promise Dean he’d take good care of her.

As Sam left his room, walking down the hall towards Y/N’s room, his steps began to slow of their own accord. That ringing was in his mind again, feeling like a force that was pulling him back towards his room. By the time he got to Y/N’s door, his body was screaming at him to turn around and leave. But he couldn’t. He raised his hand to knock, then laughed at himself for the gesture. He didn’t need to knock, they were better acquainted than that.

He opened the door, seeing Y/N sitting on her bed, reading. She immediately jumped up as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. She stood beside her bed, completely frozen, eyeing him carefully as he stood looking at her. Sam began taking lazy strides, watching his feet as he walked. He paced back and forth, thinking to himself.

“Sam?” Y/N quietly asked. He looked deep in thought over something as he bit his thumbnail and paced across the floor. He hummed and lifted a brow, stopping and looking at her then. Y/N waited as he stared at her in silence.

“You know,” he said, tapping his finger against his lip. “I know that you’re afraid of me.” He nodded to his words. “And you should be.” He added, shrugging. “I should feel bad. I should see you standing there and I should feel bad. But I just don’t.” He shook his head, taking a breath and suddenly a wide step closer to Y/N. She jumped and squeaked in surprise.

“See? That right there should  _bother_  me. It  _should_. But it’s  _doesn’t_!” He growled out, turning from her and pacing again. He stopped pacing, absentmindedly running his hand over the pendant under his shirt. Y/N remembered the pendant.

“What’s with the necklace?” She asked, keeping her distance. Sam pulled it out, looking at it, the light still pulsing within as always.

“John gave it to me,” Sam stated, more to himself. Y/N took a cautious step towards him as he was distracted looking at it.

“Is it important?” She asked, taking another step towards him. Maybe it was some kind of magic. Maybe, if she could get her hands on it, she could use it against John somehow. Sam turned to her then, gesturing towards her with a tick of his head.

“You’re still trying to find a way out of here, aren’t you?” He scolded. Y/N immediately went into a panic, screaming in her head. Sam let out a single breathy laugh before shaking his head and biting his lip. He quickly rushed towards her, grabbing her by the arms and pushing her against the wall.

“No, Sam!” She cried out, eyes squeezed shut. “No, I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m not leaving. I won’t leave.” Her hands clutched at his shirt, her knuckles white. Sam leaned back a little and the necklace tugged in Y/N’s hand. Sam froze, a thought of something similar he’d heard before. He paused, thinking, but couldn’t place it.  _Did he say that?_

Y/N took advantage of Sam’s distraction, pushing him as hard as she could from her. Sam fell back several feet, stumbling. Realizing what just happened, he growled, his lips curling up over his teeth as he huffed, glaring at Y/N and taking a wide step towards her.

Sam immediately stopped upon seeing his necklace dangling between the fingers of her closed fist, the light pulsing stronger than before. He looked down at his chest to verify it was real, his hand not finding the pendant in its usual place. Sam looked up at her then with rage and a hint of fear.

“Give it back, Y/N. Don’t make me take it from you.” He reached out his open hand, waiting for her to return it. Y/N paused, before sighing in defeat, and slowly walking forward to place it in his hand. Sam growled with impatience as she hovered close to his hand, causing her to jump and drop the pendant. Sam’s eyes went wide as it fell, hitting the ground, bouncing and rolling. His eyes jumped to Y/N. A lump formed in her throat, knowing whatever was coming wasn’t good.  _Might as well make it count,_  she thought as she suddenly stomped on the pendant with her heal. A crunch was heard before the room exploded in blue light, blinding them. Then nothing but the sound of Sam’s agonizing screams.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Sam wakes after falling unconscious and learns something new about Mary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! Years ago I saw a movie, called The Life of David Gale. Brilliant movie, you should watch it. Anyway, in the movie, they talked about a modern psychological torture method and I researched it further. The Securitate are the real secret police of the former Republic of Romania. And the torture technique mentioned was one of their favorites. It’s pretty sick, the general concept of what they did. Anyway, there’s your random education for the day. But I used that as a sort of inspiration for what John did to Sam in a way. Yeah, equally sick, I know. UNBETA’D. Feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“Give it back, Y/N. Don’t make me take it from you.” He reached out his open hand, waiting for her to return it. Y/N paused, before sighing, slowly walking forward to place it in his hand. Sam growled with impatience as she hovered close to his hand, causing her to jump and drop the pendant. Sam’s eyes went wide as it fell, hitting the ground, bouncing and rolling. His eyes jumped to Y/N. A lump formed in her throat, knowing whatever was coming wasn’t good. Might as well make it count, she thought as she suddenly stomped on the pendant with her heal. A crunch was heard before the room exploded in blue light, blinding them. Then nothing but the sound of Sam’s agonizing screams._

* * *

Mary sat on the side of her bed, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. It happened almost every night now. She’d feel the pull of her Soul calling to her, beckoning her back to Heaven where it resided. She’d remember her time there.

Though she had only died for a few short minutes, her time in Heaven seemed to stretch on in the best way. She’d get caught up in herself, arguing with herself overstaying or going, and finally struggling to silence her Soul. She was aware, every time that John was there. Every time he tried to bring her back, snap her out of it. But she couldn’t. If she broke her focus, she’d lose and give in to the sweet promise of Heaven.

Mary knew she couldn’t leave. She so desperately wanted to, but couldn’t. John had gone against everything he knew and believed in just to keep her by his side. But it changed him. The more Crowley threatened to take Mary away, the worse things John did to keep her there. The darkness and weight of his actions seeped deep into him, staining his heart and Soul. Mary watched with guilt and silence as John changed into a monster.

But what could she do? Everything he did, he did to keep her by his side. She knew she’d do the same for him. And while John was becoming increasingly sinister and spontaneous, his love and demeanor towards Mary never changed. When he held her, when they lay together, he was her John, the man she fell in love with, built a life with.

If she was no longer there, Crowley couldn’t use her as a pawn. But then everything, all that John did and became, would then be without reason. Mary couldn’t handle the guilt of all of the pain, the darkness, the complete disregard for the traditions of The Way…it was all because of her. **  
**

With time, her misery consumed her. Her secret of being soulless, feeling her connection to Heaven, all of it was her burden to bear alone. Hers and Crowley’s. It slowly ate at her, consumed her. Until day in and day out, outside of the trances, all she could think about was her and John dying. Maybe if they were both gone, the world would be right again.

* * *

Sam came to, wincing from the pain in his head and body.  _What the Hell happened?_ He forced himself to open his eyes and sit up. He was in his room, the overhead light turned off, the room dimly illuminated by the soft lighting of his desk lamp. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed a silhouette sitting in the chair by his desk.

“You’re awake,” John said, standing from the chair and turning on the overhead light before moving to Sam’s bedside.

“What happened?” Sam asked, genuinely confused, as he threw his legs over the side of the bed, clutching his head.

“Seems you were attacked by Y/N,” John stated.  _Y/N._

_“Give it back, Y/N. Don’t make me take it from you.”_

Sam shook his head as flashes came to his mind, pieces of his memory clicking into place. Sam remembered the necklace but didn’t feel it’s weight resting against his chest. He unconsciously rubbed his hand over his chest, confirming its absence.

“How do you  _feel_?” John asked carefully, biting his lip as he watched Sam with scrutiny.  _I don’t feel anything,_  Sam remembered. Suddenly, he felt overwhelmed with sadness and anger. “What’s going on, Sam?” John asked again, drawing Sam’s full attention to him. Another flash and Sam remembered John beating Dean. Remembered he had helped. Remembered he threw him in the dungeon.

“I don’t feel anything, really. A headache, I guess.” Sam said, keeping his voice calm and indifferent. He stood, fighting against the pain he felt, hiding it. Sam felt panicked. As his memories came flooding back to him, he felt one thing very clearly…rage. Rage for John, for what he had done to Sam, to Dean, what he had  _made_  Sam do…

Sam knew he couldn’t reveal any of this to his father. John wasn’t stupid. He was cunning and strategic and brutal. Sam knew he’d somehow end up in the dungeon-like Dean.

“What happened to Y/N?” Sam, again, trying to maintain a level tone. John smiled, patting his son on the back.

“Don’t worry. She  _assaulted_  you. Hell, some might argue she tried to  _kill_  you.” John’s smile grew sinister as he faced Sam. “And Hunters don’t kill other Hunters.” John teased. More memories and Sam’s anger grew more. His nostrils flared and John noticed. “Are you  _angry_?” John goaded in mock concern.

“No, Sir.” Sam was quick to reply, getting himself back under control. “Just disappointed I couldn’t address the situation myself.” Sam gave a half-smirk to John. John laughed heartily. **  
**

“Good to see you’re ok,” John responded, walking towards the door. “You can see to her when you’re well.” He added before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Sam let out a long breath as he let his wall crumble and allowed himself to process… _everything_.

* * *

Regardless of the whirlwind of emotions bubbling inside of him, Sam still had responsibilities. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but his memories continued to return to him in painful flashes. He spent a long time in his room, quiet and thinking over everything.

_“I won’t leave, I promise!”_  The words reverberated off the walls of Sam’s mind as he remembered the look on Y/N’s face as she spoke them, the absolute fear there. Then he remembered. He had said the same, felt the same, as he looked up at his father from the table. Sam quickly realized that John had stolen his Soul, making him a shell, a perfect soldier.

Sam had read, years before in his constant learning and research of the world, about a group called the Securitate, a secret police agency of Romania. They were known for one of their preferred methods of torture, wherein a victim was bound, forced to swallow the key, and left to die, usually by suffocation, knowing the whole time their freedom was within. Sam couldn’t help but feel sick, the ghostly burn of the pendant reminding him of its former place, his proverbial key within.

Sam did get sick then, hurrying to the wastebasket and releasing all the contents of his stomach in violent heaves. His emotions, for so long gone, were overwhelming. The memories of what he had done, of how everything twisted and became so perverse. It was why he wanted to leave, to begin with, he saw it coming.

Sam quickly adjusted himself, wiping his face on his sleeve and standing to attention when he heard his door quickly open and shut. He was shocked to see Mary there, breathing heavy and staring up at Sam.

“Mom?” Sam asked cautiously. He didn’t know if she too was aware of the necklace, of what had been done. He only knew he had to pretend nothing had changed and trust no one. At least until he could figure something out.

Mary didn’t move. Still leaning against the door, she looked up at Sam, her eyes slightly wide. She slowly stood straight, walking towards Sam and tucking his hair neatly behind his ear while he rested her hand on his cheek lovingly.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered. Sam hadn’t heard her talk much at all in years because of her illness. They all just assumed she was hit with a madness that gradually got worse. Some sort of brain deterioration. Sam remained wary as he removed Mary’s hands from him and shuffled her to sit in the chair by his desk.

“Why are you sorry?” Sam fought to keep his tone level.

“Where’s your necklace?” She glanced to the spot where it usually lay before meeting his eyes again. Sam swallowed hard, his hand instinctively going to his chest once more. She stood and looked deep into his eyes. “Are you… _you_  again?” She whispered. Mary was scared, Sam could see that. She loved her son, but in the absence of a Soul, he had become John’s errand boy. Mother or not, Sam would put her in her place for any insolence. That is… _if_  he was still under John’s control. She turned from him then.

“After that hunt, when Crowley brought me back, my Soul stayed in Heaven.” Sam’s eyes widened at hearing her words.  _Were they all without Souls?_  “I haven’t felt right here since. I stayed, for John,” she looked at Sam again, “for you boys. But I’m tired.” She sighed out the words, her shoulders slumping with the admission. **  
**

“Mom, what are you saying?” Sam eagerly asked, maneuvering them both to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m saying,” She sighed against, sitting up straight and staring him in the eye, “I’m saying that I don’t belong here. I belong in Heaven, with my Soul.” Sam shook his head frantically, understanding dawning on him. “But I won’t leave without John.” She added. Sam’s mind reeled at her words. Mary stood to leave.

“You and your brother…take back The Way. Make it mean something again.” She whispered sadly before leaving the room. Sam gripped at his hair, his face going red with too much to process.  _Take back The Way? How? What did she mean? Back to Heaven?_  So many questions. He didn’t know what to do, who to turn to. He needed Dean.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: After several months, Sam and the reader talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! Ok, we’ve got some gore-ridden themes coming here. Pretty gross tbh. I had a few ideas last night for enhancing the story a bit and, oh man!, I’m just so excited when they do post! As always, feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“I’m saying,” She sighed again, sitting up straight and staring him in the eye, “I’m saying that I don’t belong here. I belong in Heaven, with my Soul.” Sam shook his head frantically, understanding dawning on him. “But I won’t leave without John.” She added. Sam’s mind reeled at her words. Mary stood to leave._

_“You and your brother…take back The Way. Make it mean something again.” She whispered sadly before leaving the room. Sam gripped at his hair, his face going red with too much to process. Take back The Way? How? What did she mean? Back to Heaven? So many questions. He didn’t know what to do, who to turn to. He needed Dean._

* * *

It had been three months since Y/N had been taken from her home to the Winchester Bunker. She hadn’t left these walls since then. In three months time, she had discovered a secret world  _within_  her world. She had lost her father. She had lost her innocence. She had been beaten, tortured, run into the ground, drilled, mocked, humiliated, abused. Day in and day out, there was blood, and pain, and grief. Yet somehow, everyone seemed  _happy_. Y/N wasn’t sure what she felt anymore if anything. But she knew it most definitely wasn’t happy.

After the incident with Sam and the necklace, Y/N was distraught.

_Once the light dissipated in the room, Y/N immediately caught sight of Sam. He was laying on the ground, his whole body in a grotesque seizure, muscles flexed to the max, veins popping, skin red and sweaty. He screamed the most horrible sounds she had ever heard coming from a human being. Even she didn’t scream like that when being tortured. This was a level of pain she couldn’t comprehend. She pitied him._

_Y/N heard shouting in the hallway. Her eyes widened, realizing where she was and that surely someone heard the screams and saw the blinding light. She quickly scooped up the remnants of the necklace, stuffing it into her pocket. The door burst open, slamming back against the wall. Y/N jumped at the sound._

_Three men poured into the room, followed by John hovering in the hallway. One man ran to Sam, who had just gone silent and limp. The other two snatched up Y/N by either arm, forcing her to walk forward to John. Y/N tried to fight against their hold, even attempting to drag her feet. But the men were too strong. John looked her up and down with a twitch in his eye before demanding she be taken to the dungeons._

Y/N was held in a windowless, concrete room. An iron door with a small barred window the only access. For a week straight - she thinks, not entirely sure - she was left in that room. Food was given to her three times a day. But no one ever spoke a word to her. She had attempted to speak to Gadreel as she saw him walking past. Gripping onto the bars to stand on her tiptoes and look out the window. Gadreel quickly smacked her knuckles on each hand with one swipe of his club. She winced and cried out in pain as her right index finger was broken at the first joint. It was three days and a fever later that someone actually came to see to her injuries.

After that, she was made to help out with feeding the creatures and captives of the dungeon. Turns out, some of the food for the creatures  _came_  from some of the captives. Gadreel would talk  _in depth_  about it with an air of pride and how Sam had designed it so efficiently. He always seemed to talk of Sam in the highest regard. Luckily, others were responsible for “preparing the dishes”. She merely delivered.

Once her duties were completed, she was assigned to someone else for the day. Sometimes it was Walter, who always had “pain endurance” training. Sometimes she was sent to Jo, helping however she saw fit. Jo often saw fit to corner Y/N and attempt to woo her. The best was when she got to see Kevin. He was always in the library and spent a lot of time helping Y/N with her studies, research, and learning about The Way. Kevin was full of information and he shared it willingly. Some even as hushed whispers. At the end of each day, she was taken back to her cell to stay until the next day. It didn’t matter if she was tired, sick, sore, or hadn’t healed. There were no interruptions to her carefully planned schedule.  _Until today._

* * *

Sam walked hurriedly down the dungeon corridors, slowing to a casual step any time he passed someone. He was rushing. He had finally found a lead on where Dean had been taken nearly three months before. Sam had gone back to the cell he placed him in, but Dean was gone. Sam had tried to find out from John, Mary, and others, but they either didn’t know or told him to stop worrying about it. He did his best to channel his former soulless self in all dealings. But everyone could tell he had lost his edge. John had spent more and more time checking in with him, testing him. Sam always managed to pass the increasingly brutal and grotesque tests, but it was getting harder.

John had kept Sam busy, so he wasn’t able to go to the dungeon. Sam had tried asking to deal with Y/N and pay her back for the attack. But John always told him to be patient, he’ll get his chance. Today, he was finally allowed access to the dungeon, John being satisfied that Sam was still  _Sam_. He had to get to Y/N. He needed to make sure she was ok. He also hoped that she might have seen Dean since she had been living and working in the dungeon so long. He was pretty certain, for whatever reason, that Dean would somehow be near Y/N in one way or another.

He found her, finally, in a long corridor, pushing the trolley that carried bowls and plates of food for the creatures. She was not alone, an unknown brunette woman walking at the front of the trolley with a clipboard. Sam rushed up behind Y/N, grabbing her upper arm and turning to look at her. Y/N froze, seeing Sam for the first time since their altercation. Sam glanced at her, then over to the bloody parts placed in bowls.

_Sam’s hair was flailing in and out of his face. Spurts of blood splashed upwards, coating his face in splatter as he continued to hack away at the body before him. John burst into the room, seeing a hacked up body on a gurney, Sam coated in blood, a large butcher’s knife in his hand._

_“Sam,” John gasped, unsure what was happening. Sam had been a bit more unpredictable since John had his Soul removed. “Wha - What have you done?”_

_Sam shrugged, standing straight and wiping the blood off his blade with a dirty cloth. “He was dying, couldn’t be saved.” Sam set the knife on the body then proceeded to remove his black rubber apron._

_“He wasn’t dead?!” John asked in shock. “Why did you butcher him?!” John was at a loss. He hadn’t seen such direct cruelty. **  
**_

_“I need to release some steam. He was as good as dead. We can feed him to the creatures. It will probably make them a bit more lively having fresh over exhumed.” He shrugged again, walking past John and out of the room with not a care. John looked back at the mess and thought about Sam. He feared nothing. He did what he wanted because he could. And really, who would dare to stop him? John felt inspired._

“I need to talk to you,” Sam said, staring in Y/N’s eyes, trying to make her see the urgency. She glanced at her brunette partner who simply raised her brows and went back to looking at her clipboard. “Now,” Sam demanded. He felt her body stiffen under his grip, saw the fear on her face. He pulled her roughly, forcing her to fall into step with him as he rounded a few corners and slipped inside a room, closing it shut and listening. Once he was satisfied no one was there or coming, he turned to Y/N.

The sight of her broke his heart. She wore several bruises and cuts on her face and body. He could see rope burns on her wrists, blood on her fingers from serving the bowls. Her hair was a mess and she looked very sleep deprived. As he made to move towards her, she jumped, flinching in response to the sudden and harsh movement on her body.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Sam whispered, his throat dry. “Not anymore.” He added a deep sadness in his tone. Y/N kept quiet, nodding to show she heard him, but keeping her guard up nonetheless. “I’ll cut to the point. Have you seen Dean?” He asked, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N nodded again, lowering her gaze to the floor.

“Tell me, please. I need to find him.” Y/N was caught off guard, he eyes shooting up to his. Sam’s tone was different, his stance, his body language. The more she noticed the more this seemed like a completely different person. She took a cautious step towards him.

“What happened to you?” Y/N asked, taking slow steps to stand in front of him.

“The necklace.” Sam swallowed. “It had my Soul trapped inside.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. How to explain everything he had done. It still didn’t seem excusable to him. Y/N watched him carefully for several moments before taking a step back to provide more space between them.

“I see him every day. Sometimes he takes over training me. Sometimes he just… _hovers_.” Sam nodded. He could tell from her demeanor that John had successfully reprogrammed Dean once more. That would make things harder.

“When do you see him next?” Sam asked, trying to formulate a plan.

“After feeding. I’m supposed to report to him for physical training.” She looked to the floor again. Physical training was essentially fighting, sparring. Y/N actually enjoyed the hand-to-hand combat. But Dean didn’t go easy and Y/N always ended on her back, in pain.

“Ok,” Sam nodded, “come with me.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Reader trains with Dean and prepares for changes. Mary had a moment with John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! I SUCK AT SUMMARIES! I’ve never written for Benny, so hopefully it’s not awful. We’re cooking with grease now, folks! As always, feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“I see him every day. Sometimes he takes over training me. Sometimes he just…hovers.” Sam nodded. He could tell from her demeanor that John had successfully reprogrammed Dean once more. That would make things harder._

_“When do you see him next?” Sam asked, trying to formulate a plan._

_“After feeding. I’m supposed to report to him for physical training.” She looked to the floor again. Physical training was essentially fighting, sparring. Y/N actually enjoyed the hand-to-hand combat. But Dean didn’t go easy and Y/N always ended on her back, in pain._

_“Ok,” Sam nodded, “come with me.”_

* * *

Mary prepared herself and John some tea from the tray that was delivered to their room nightly. John lay back on the bed, stripped of the day’s attire, looking up at the canopy of the bed as he spoke about the day's events. Mary listened quietly, as she always did. As she added the sugar and milk to each cup, she turned to see John was still looking up, rambling on.

She turned her attention back to the cups before pulling a small vial from her pocket and emptying the purple crystals into each cup. Belladonna was a great sedative. But in larger quantities could be fatal. She was sure to add a generous helping to each cup before stirring them.

Mary smiled to herself before picking up the cups and walking to John. It didn’t matter which cup he took. Hopefully, if her measurements were right, they would both fall asleep and never wake up.

John sat up on the edge of the bed as Mary approached him. He smiled warmly at her and she stood with both cups, waiting for John to take the cup from her left hand as he always did. Today, he took the right. As she brought the cup to her lips, she watched John doing the same. Before she could sip its warmth, John spoke up.

“Hey, you know what?” John smiled excitedly, taking her cup and his and placing them on the nightstand. “When’s the last time we had some  _us_  time?” He asked, biting his lip. Mary let him sweep her up in his arms as he flung her over the bed and began kissing down her neck. She looked over to the nightstand and the cups that were quickly being cleaned up and carried off with the tray by the kitchen crew. Mary mourned their loss as she closed her eyes. **  
**

* * *

Sam took Y/N to the training room as scheduled to meet with Dean. The two of them sat in silence for a long time before the door suddenly burst open and slammed shut. Dean stormed into the room, his poker face unreadable as he took in the presence of both Sam and Y/N.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked Sam as he began stretching out his muscles, readying himself for a good workout.

“I wanted to talk to you, about what happened, what I did.” Sam grew quieter with each word. Still, Dean’s face was unchanging.

“Suddenly you have a conscience?” Dean laughed out as he began moving towards Y/N. She began taking a step back for his every step forward. Dean’s eyes still stayed on Sam.

“I have my Soul back.”

Dean stopped his movements then, pausing before turning to face Sam directly. “Your  _Soul_?” Dean inquired, confused.

Sam let out a long breath. “Yeah, my Soul. And I’m remembering everything and I just…” he sighed, “I don’t know what to do.” He pleaded to Dean. Dean looked him up and down, then turned his attention back to Y/N as he continued stocking her.

Dean lunged for Y/N, tackling her at the shins and knocking her to the ground with a thud. He quickly scuttled up her body until he was straddling her torso, hands pinned above her head in one of Dean’s own.

“You’re dead.” He spat, standing and turning his back to her. “Get up. And this time,” He turned, smiling at her, “don’t let me get you.” Dean jolted forward and Y/N took off, maneuvering amongst the fighting dummies and punching bags situated throughout the room. Sam watched, trying to get Dean’s attention.

“Dean, can we talk for a minute, please?!” Sam shouted.

“Can’t Sammy. Gotta teach this little girl a lesson.” Dean smirked, dashing after Y/N once more. He grabbed her from behind. Y/N was quick to get out of his grasp, turning and landing an inch punch to Dean’s sternum. He staggered back a few steps in surprise. Y/N’s eyes were wide, surprised herself. Dean growled as he snatched her up, quickly knocking her to the ground. He straddled her once more, pulling back his fist, ready to land a blow.

Y/N bucked her hips and twisted her body, throwing Dean from her. She rolled from under him and took off towards the table in the center of the room. The table was covered with several throwing knives, brass knuckles, several small melee weapons. She glanced up from the table, seeing Dean approaching.

“Y/N, don’t!” Sam cautioned, taking a step towards her. Both Sam and Dean were about five feet from her. She grabbed one of the throwing knives, hurling it through the air at Sam. It buzzed passed his hair, but missed him entirely. His eyes narrowed at her. She picked up the next knife, throwing it at Dean and missing by a wide margin. Dean grinned devilishly before proceeding towards her once more. In a panic, she picked up another knife and began to circle away from the table, putting more distance between herself and the brothers. Dean moved forward then and Y/N threw the last blade, finding its mark. It landed in his left shoulder and Dean winced at the pain.

Y/N froze, surprised she had actually landed a blow. Dean took advantage of her momentary distraction, pulling the blade from his shoulder and lunging for her once more. He had her on the ground on her stomach. He was straddling her lower back, a fistful of hair in his left hand, the blade in his right. He pulled her up slightly in a backward bend by her hair and brought the blade to her throat.

“Just kill me and get it over with!” Y/N cried out, defiantly glaring at Sam since she couldn’t look at Dean. Dean paused for a long moment, just staring at her before he released her, stood and took several steps back from her. Y/N rose in confusion, looking between Dean and Sam.

“You mean it, don’t you?” Dean asked.

“I don’t care if I die.” She answered, knowing the truth of her words. She didn’t care anymore. What was the point, living in this Hell?

“Then you’re ready for Stage 2,” Dean answered, grabbing a towel to wipe himself down.

“Stage 2?” Sam asked, just as confused.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed in agitation. “Stage 2. She’s no longer afraid to die. Now she just needs a reason to live.” He turned, addressing them both. “Then she’ll be ready.”

“Ready for what?” Sam asked before Y/N could.

“Go set her up on a hunt Sammy. I think it’s about time she sees what we really do here.” Dean made to leave the room, but was stopped as one of the Elites, Bobby Singer, stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Dean stopped in his tracks and backed up slowly as Bobby silently entered the room, closing the door behind him. Bobby was formidable. Had been hunting his entire life, like the other Elites. He was also a stickler for the rules, for The Way.

“Hunts a good idea. Great way to get our little Elite up to par.” Bobby spoke, breaking the tension. He nodded to Sam who quickly moved to get him and Y/N out of the room. Once they were gone and the door closed behind them, Bobby turned his attention to Dean. “How bad you screwed up this time, son?”

Dean glared at Bobby. He wanted to put him in his place. But Bobby was like an Uncle to him, and Dean wasn’t sure he could take him on successfully, old man or not.

“I’m doing my job,” Dean answered defiantly. “John makes sure I do my part to keep this place running smoothly.”

“Wrong answer boy,” Bobby said, approaching Dean. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix you up right. Won’t be pretty, though.” Bobby advanced towards Dean and Dean felt a lump he couldn’t swallow forming.

* * *

Sam burst into Y/N’s room later that day, quietly closing the door behind him and listening as before. Y/N noticed he seemed paranoid, always watching and listening. **  
**

“Pack a bag,” Sam said, tossing an olive green canvas duffle onto Y/N’s bag. “I made arrangements for you to go on a hunt.” He said, walking to her dresser and beginning to dig through her clothes, tossing several items towards the bed. Y/N was stuck in place, watching Sam.

“A hunt?” She asked, genuinely confused. SHe didn’t think she was ready and had never been let outside the walls.

“Yeah,” Sam was irritated, rushing through her room and shoving items into the bag. “There’s a hunter here, good guy, very skilled. He checks in every once in a while, reporting on the hunting activity within his region. Each Elite family is in charge of a region of the country and its activities. A hunter is placed in charge of the area and they report back to the Elite family on activities.” Sam took a breath, thinking, before rushing to Y/N’s closet and grabbing more items to shove in the bag.

“Ok, but why am I being sent to go with him?”

“Because. For one thing, Dean is right. You need to see what it is we do, other than the mess that’s going on here.” He looked around the room, seeing if he missed anything, then zipped up her bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He placed an arm around her lower back, ushering her forward. “It’ll get you out of here for a bit while I try to figure things out. I need to talk to Dean, hope that John didn’t screw him up too badly. Maybe Dean and I can find a way to make things right around here again.”

“And I have to be gone for that to happen?” Y/N asked, straining to keep up with Sam’s long strides. The Bunker seemed especially busy today, many new faces gracing its halls.

“If you’re here, you’re a target. And a distraction.” Sam added, heading through the library and towards the War Room where Bobby and a handsome man stood talking. “And you’re no good to us if you can’t fight, if you’re afraid if you don’t know what you’re fighting for.”

They stood before Bobby and the handsome stranger. Y/N couldn’t help but look him over. The stranger had stunning eyes, slightly graying scruff, and a great build. He flashed a smile and extended his hand to Sam.

“Hiya there, Sam.” The man said in a delicious southern drawl, causing Y/N to blush slightly. “Ma’am.” He said to Y/N, slightly tipping the brim of his cap.

“Y/N, this is Benny Lafitte. Benny, this is Y/N Y/L/N.” Bobby headed the introductions.

“Y/L/N?” Benny asked, surprised.

“Yeah. She’s the one you’ll take along for the hunt. She needs a lot of work. I don’t want her coming back until she’s up to par. And you’re responsible for making sure that happens as quickly as possible.”

Benny nodded to Bobby’s words, looking at all the members of the group. Sam handed her bag to Benny and he took it without question.

“Be careful out there and listen to Benny. He’ll take care of you.” Sam said to Y/N. She could sense the concern in his voice, see the unease in his eyes. Y/N swallowed hard and nodded, stepping forward towards Benny.

“Shall we darlin’?” He asked with a smile, offering his arm for her to take.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Bobby works with a stubborn Dean. Reader learns more about the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! Again, I’m terrible at summaries. Nothing too graphic or terrible here. Feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“Hunts a good idea. Great way to get our little Elite up to par.” Bobby spoke, breaking the tension. He nodded to Sam who quickly moved to get him and Y/N out of the room. Once they were gone and the door closed behind them, Bobby turned his attention to Dean. “How bad you screwed up this time, son?”_

_Dean glared at Bobby. He wanted to put him in his place. But Bobby was like an Uncle to him, and Dean wasn’t sure he could take him on successfully, old man or not._

_“I’m doing my job,” Dean answered defiantly. “John makes sure I do my part to keep this place running smoothly.”_

_“Wrong answer boy,” Bobby said, approaching Dean. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix you up right. Won’t be pretty, though.” Bobby advanced towards Dean and Dean felt a lump he couldn’t swallow forming._

* * *

Dean wasn’t sure what was happening. He didn’t get challenged, by  _anyone_. He made sure people knew he was in charge and didn’t give a damn. It had worked very well so far. But Dean had never been directly challenged. Not by an Elite. Not by a legend like Bobby.

Bobby was family, Dean had grown up with him there, a prominent figure in his life. Dean respected Bobby a lot, maybe more than anyone. Bobby was skilled and intelligent. But he was an avid defender of The Way, its rules, and what it stood for. He knew the laws and tenants inside and out and truly lived by them. Bobby had spoken out about the atrocities that were happening all around, but no one dared agree with him. He got away with it because of his station and history with the Winchesters.

John had drilled it into Dean that the  _Winchesters_  were the  _law_. What they wanted, they got, because they were in charge. Dean no longer questioned, he no longer argued with John. He accepted it and did as John told him. It was easier that way, and if he were being honest, a lot more fun.

“I don’t know what John did to you this time boy, but I’m gonna fix it,” Bobby said, crossing his arms over his chest. Dean wasn’t sure he could take Bobby. Dean knew Bobby wasn’t as fast as him. So he decided to chance it. Dean shot towards Bobby, adrenaline fueling him. Before he could react, Bobby pulled out his brass knuckle clad fist and punched Dean directly in the face. Dean went down with a hard thud, out cold. Bobby sighed as he tucked the knuckles into his pants. He reached down, grabbing Dean by the feet, and dragged him out of the room and into the hallway. There was a gurney waiting. Bobby picked up Dean with a grunt and flung him down on the gurney, securing straps across his body.

Bobby wiped his brow and let out a heavy breath. He was out of practice. He moved to the head of the gurney and began whistling as he pushed the gurney forward, through the halls.

* * *

Benny helped Y/N into the truck, closing the door before heading to the driver’s side. As they pulled away from the Bunker, Y/N turned behind her, grateful to see it growing smaller, the dust from the tires helping to further obscure the view. When she could see it no more, she turned her attention out the passenger window, cracking it halfway to feel the warm, fresh air rush over her. She took a deep breath and released it, much of her tension along with it. She didn’t know where she was going or what would happen to her. But she was grateful to be free of that place, at least for a time.

“Here,” Benny said, laying a long package in Y/N’s lap, wrapped in cloth and tied with a leather strap. Y/N stared at the object in her lap for a moment, turning to Benny and blinking in confusion. He smiled a charming and toothy smile that was infectious. “Open it.”

Y/N carefully unwrapped the leather strap and laid open the cloth over her lap. She blinked several times before carefully lifting her fingers to the note that lay on the blade.

**_You should have this. I hope it helps you in the fight. - Sam_ **

Y/N set the note to the side and returned her attention to the blade in her lap.

“It was your father’s,” Benny spoke, offering what he knew to Y/N as she began examining the machete. “He made it himself. The envy of every Hunter.” Benny grinned playfully. “The blade is made from a melted angel blade. The handle is silver.” Y/N ran her hand over her family’s last name, etched ornately into the handle, a pentagram engraved at the end. “The blade has symbols engraved in it. Enhances it somehow, but no one knows for sure. Your father was never able to replicate it and no one was able to get ahold of it and study it. But I haven’t heard of a creature it couldn’t kill.”

Y/N smiled warmly at Benny, a silent thanks, as she picked up the blade. The weight felt good in her hand, the silver handle felt good against her skin, the family name pressed against her palm. The blade twinkled with the dwindling light as Y/N examined it this way and that. She placed it back in the cloth, wrapping it up and tying it off, holding it close to her chest.

“Thank you.” She managed as she stared at the scenery passing by. Benny smiled, satisfied, and continued driving.

* * *

Dean awoke suddenly, in shock, as the ice cold water was thrown upon him. He took several gasping breaths, trying to calm his heart.

“Morning, Sunshine!” Bobby cheerily spoke, the sound of his voice ringing in Dean’s ears, causing him to wince.

“B-Bobby?” Dean struggled to speak, trying to get his bearings. His whole head was in pain and he remembered Bobby throwing a punch, then…nothing. Dean saw he was strapped to a gurney, the contraption in a mostly upright position. He looked down at his bonds, pulling his wrists to test the straps. He dropped his head back and sighed before letting out a breathy, humorless chuckle. “What are you doing?” **  
**

“If you hadn’t noticed, things are kind of going to shit around here.” Bobby started, sitting in a chair a few feet in front of Dean. Dean took in his surroundings. He was in one of the rooms in the dungeon, though not sure which. Concrete walls, minimal lighting, typical of most of the cells.

“Yeah?” Dean played along. “Not that I agree with you,” Dean tested his bonds once more, growling quietly in frustration, “but how is tying me up going to help with that, hmm?” Dean refused to make eye contact, instead focusing on trying to break free. Bobby watched Dean carefully as he continued talking.

“Well, for starters, John’s completely lost it.”

“Maybe you should tie  _him_  up then?” Dean laughed again.

“I don’t think there’s any saving him,” Bobby sighed with a heavy heart, “But I can still save you.”

“I don’t need saving,” Dean growled, flexing his muscles and relaxing.

“In a few months time,” Bobby got up, walking around Dean, “you will accept the position of Leader of The Way. I’ll be damned if something I believe in, I worked my whole life for, will be destroyed by a tyrant and his puppet of a son!” Bobby shouted, his anger clearly evident. Dean smirked wickedly, excited to see Bobby upset and uncomfortable.

“The  _Way_ ,” Dean mocked, “has been designed and built by the Winchesters.” Dean leaned forward as much as his restraints would allow, “and The  _Winchesters_  are the law!” He hissed through his teeth. Bobby hung his head in shame as he nodded. He had a lot of work ahead of him.

* * *

“How much do you know?” Benny asked Y/N, sitting opposite her at the small motel room table, watching as she ate.

“I know about the history of The Way.” She began, trying to swallow her mouthful of food. “I know about some creatures and fighting methods, tortures,” She nodded as she snuck another bite, trying to act nonchalant.

“What do you know about  _your_  role in all of this?” Benny prompted.

“My father was an Elite. He was John’s best friend. He quit hunting because of me and John. Then Dean and Sam took me and I’ve been training since.” She went back to her food, seemingly indifferent to it all. Benny chewed on his lip as he looked over Y/N, processing his thoughts.

“An Elite is an Elite because they were one of the founding families.  _Your_  family is one of those. And seeing as how you’re the  _only_  one remaining of your family, you are the  _only_  Y/L/N Elite.” Benny gave her a moment to process but continued when he saw her confusion.

“You are entitled to a seat on the Council. You're entitled to your regional hunting lands.” She still didn’t seem to be following. “These lands.” He added, growing a little frustrated. “Which were taken from you when your father left and given under the care of The Campbells.” **  
**

“Wait, so,” Y/N moved her eyes as if reading some unseen text, “I am on the Council? And I manage this region? And The Campbells took it?” Her face contorted as she tried to process. “So…you…work for me?” She added lightly.

Benny laughed. “Yeah, yeah I suppose I do.” He bit his lip again, taking a moment to admire Y/N. “But,” He added, returning to business, “We need to get you up to par. Training, field experience, general knowledge, and of course the Tenets.”

“That seems like a lot.”

“It is, and we don’t have much time. From what Sam and Bobby told me, things are getting really out of hand since the Gauntlet. We need to make sure you can handle whatever comes. You're the last Y/L/N Elite, Y/N…we can’t afford to lose an entire legacy bloodline. Unless,” he added, “that’s what you want.”

Y/N suddenly felt the overwhelming pressure. The pressure not only to survive and escape this Hell, but also the pressure of living up to her name and legacy. Benny was giving her the chance to choose in or out, and she had run out of time to decide. She remembered her father in the arena. She remembered John killing him in front of everyone. The images playing through her mind in slow motion. She remembered her last words to him, and her promise at the Gauntlet. No matter how much she wanted out, the  _right_  thing to do was to stay. To  _fight_. To do what her father couldn’t  _wouldn’t_  do.

“I’m in, Benny.” She sighed, looking him in the eye. “Where do we start?”

* * *

Dean tried bucking his head this way and that to fend off Bobby as he placed a thin metal collar on Dean’s neck. Once secured and locked, Bobby tucked the key away and walked around to face Dean once more.

“Ok, now we can begin,” Bobby stated with little enthusiasm. Bobby held up a small device in his hand, a few buttons visible on its surface. “This controls that.” He said, indicating Dean’s collar. “We’re gonna try some aversion therapy. You see, I did a little research and found this doctor to discovered that administering small shocks to an individual result in immediate corrective action for behavior modification.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly. “They use it mostly on juvenile delinquents, but I figure,” he shrugged, smirking at Dean, “it’ll do just fine for you too.”

Bobby pressed a button and a small shock went into Dean’s skin, like a hard pinch. He winced then laughed. “That’s it? That’s all you got? You really think a  _pinch_ -” Dean spat before Bobby delivered an even higher shock. This one enough to freeze up Dean’s body for a moment.

“Adjustable settings,” Bobby added. He walked to stand in front of Dean, reaching for the buckles on the straps.

“You let me out of here and I’ll kill you. John would  _expect_  it!” Dean growled. Bobby laughed, loosening the straps and stepping back, letting Dean get himself free. Dean stretched his muscles and then tugged on the collar, but it didn’t give. He growled, stepping towards Bobby before hitting the ground on his knees, another shock momentarily seizing him.

“How’s about you have a seat and we chat a bit?” Bobby smiled, pulling up another chair and sitting down. Dean glared at him before rising and sitting in the chair Bobby had occupied earlier.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Dean/Bobby and Benny/Reader discuss the history of The Way and The Five Tenets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! Every “society” has a basic set of rules to live by. So I made a set of rules, pulled from several different sources, and present The Five Tenets of The Way. I didn’t want to just “spit them out”, so I tried to convey it in a way that was informative, entertaining, and also showed growth and passage of time with the characters as they learn to apply The Tenets in practical ways. (I’m overly ambitious, leave me alone! lol). As always, feedback is appreciated. : )

**_Previously…_   
**

_“It is, and we don’t have much time. From what Sam and Bobby told me, things are getting really out of hand since the Gauntlet. We need to make sure you can handle whatever comes. You're the last Y/L/N Elite, Y/N…we can’t afford to lose an entire legacy bloodline. Unless,” he added, “that’s what you want.”_

_Y/N suddenly felt the overwhelming pressure. The pressure not only to survive and escape this Hell, but also the pressure of living up to her name and legacy. Benny was giving her the chance to choose in or out, and she had run out of time to decide. She remembered her father in the arena. She remembered John killing him in front of everyone. The images playing through her mind in slow motion. She remembered her last words to him, and her promise at the Gauntlet. No matter how much she wanted out, the right thing to do was to stay. To fight. To do what her father couldn’t wouldn’t do._

_“I’m in, Benny.” She sighed, looking him in the eye. “Where do we start?”_

* * *

"Y/N, Sugar, you okay?” Benny asked, standing across the motel room from Y/N. They had just returned from a hunt, Y/N’s first, and she wasn’t taking it too well.

“Okay? OKAY?!” She shouted, spinning around to face Benny, her face red with rage. “We just killed a werewolf. A freakin'  _werewolf_! And you!” She screeched, trying to catch her breath.

“Right, so I know it’s all a bit shocking-”

“Shocking?! I expected it wasn’t going to be pleasant fighting creatures. I expected it would be painful and scary and that I’d probably get hurt. But what I  _didn’t_  expect was the  _Hunter_  I was working with to spin around after the kill with a mouthful of  _fangs_! You’re a-”

“A vampire?” Benny finished for her. He sighed, taking a seat at the small table, opening a box and removing first aid items. “No secret, Sugar.” He sighed heavily, looking over at Y/N. She stood uneasy, her arms wrapped around her in a protective gesture. “Come on, sit, have a drink. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” He held his hand out, gesturing her towards the table. She hesitated, glancing between his hand and the empty chair across from him.

She walked across the room slowly, making her way to the chair. Benny moved his seat next to Y/N’s, sliding the supplies over with him. **  
**

“I-I can do it.” She muttered, trying to move back from Benny. He flashed her a glare before grabbing her left arm and cleaning several of the cuts and scratches. He continued in silence and Y/N could do nothing but watch him. He reached for her right shoulder, where there were deeper cuts and winced in empathy.

“These need stitches.” He grabbed a bottle, slamming it on the table in front of her. “Drink, it’ll help with the pain.” Y/N’s eyes went wide realizing she was about to experience “field medicine”. She had studied it briefly in the library, Kevin always telling her she never knew when it would come in handy. After several swallows of the harsh and strong liquor, Benny grabbed the bottle and splashed some over her open gashes. She gasped in pain. As it began to subside, Benny started in on the stitches.

“You’re tough. I’ll give you that.” He offered, focusing carefully on his task. “You did well. You followed instructions, naturally understood formation and positioning.”

“Why-” Y/N started, unsure how to word thoughts. Benny stopped for a moment to smile and nod, urging her on. He continued with stitching the second of three gashes. “Why did you do - what you did - after -”.

“You mean after we killed the werewolf?”

“Yeah. I mean, you knelt down and took your cap off. It was like you were paying respects to a friend.”

“Act with compassion and empathy towards all creatures.” He spoke in reverent tones. “The second tenet of The Way.”

“Tenet?” Y/N had never heard of such a thing about The Way. Benny sighed, finished his work, and cleaned the mess.

“You're probably familiar with Winchester law.” He scoffed. “Hunters do not kill other Hunters. All enemies, especially enemies of The Way, are met with swift justice. And,” he thought for a second, worrying his bottom lip as he tried to recollect, “oh, and Winchesters are the final authority in all matters. That about sum it up?” He raised his brow, frowning when she nodded.

Benny let his eyes wander over Y/N’s features, his gaze tender. “Many,  _many_  years ago,” he smirked playfully, “I was a new vampire and I was part of a nest. I had a  _falling out_ , let’s say, with my maker. They were going to kill me. Then a pair of Hunters broke into the nest and killed everyone, every vampire.” He paused, seemingly letting himself remember it all. Y/N swallowed hard, eager to know more.

“So what happened?” She pressed. Benny shook himself from his mind and smiled at her once more.

“Uh, well, I watched in silence. They hadn’t seen me in the cage. They both knelt beside each body with a moment of silence before setting to clean the mess and destroy the evidence. I got their attention then. One of them came over to me, the other stood at a distance, ready to defend his partner if necessary. All really textbook actually…” He scratched his head and shrugged. “So the first Hunter opened the cage, saw I was a vampire and questioned me. I told them what happened. And then…” Benny laughed. “Then he introduced himself and offered his hand to me.”

Y/N’s brows raised in surprise. “He knew what you were?” **  
**

“Yeah. Yeah, he knew. He let me go. Said it wasn’t a fight between them and I. Told me not to get caught, by Hunters or creatures, and let me go.”

“They let you go?”

“Yeah. I ran into the first Hunter later on.”

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” She practically pleaded in a whisper. Benny was hurt but also understood why she might feel that way.

“No, I didn’t. I saved him. He was under attack and I helped him. He thanked me and introduced himself as William Y/L/N.”

“But that’s-”

“Your great-grandfather.” Benny finished. “He taught me about The Way, about the life of a Hunter. He took me under his wing and guided me. I’ve been working for The Y/L/N and throughout this region since.”

“So, the tenets?” Y/N was managing to keep up, surprising even herself, if not a bit overwhelmed by it all.

“When John was first named as Leader, after passing The Trials, he was humble. He was dedicated to The Way, to making it stronger and better than before. He was promising.” Benny rubbed a hand down his face and let out a breath. “Then Mary went all crazy after a hunt. John changed. His light and spirit seemed diminished somehow. And Allen left. None of the Elites had ever just,  _left_. John was lost without him for a while, to be honest.”

Y/N felt ashamed. Ashamed for her father, for his abandoning The Way. There was something to be amazed by, this whole other world. To have a family legacy tied to something that was once so great and pure seemed like a dream. The more she learned, the more she wanted it, believed in it. The way Benny believed in it. Suddenly, it didn’t seem to matter  _what_  he was, just  _who_  he was. He was a brave and wise man.

“When John changed, the rules changed. The old tenets were erased, removed. The Way was changed from a noble cause to being at the whims of a sadistic tyrant!” Benny tried to compose himself, fighting back the outburst and the remaining rage he held within. “The tenets are our way of life.”

“What are they?” Y/N leaned forward on her seat, eager to learn more. Benny smiled in spite of himself at her strength, courage, and willingness to learn.

* * *

“What is the first tenet of The Way?” Bobby asked, waiting for Dean’s answer. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness. In his delay, Bobby gave him a small shock, snapping Dean to attention. He growled and glared at Bobby and adjusted in his seat.

“Hunters do not kill other Hunters.” Dean spat.

“Or?” Bobby pressed. Dean’s eyes went bath and forth as he searched his mind. **  
**

“Or cause them harm through action or inaction.” Dean finished.

“Good. Now, what’s the second?”

“What are you getting at here? I know John’s laws!” Dean clenched in pain as Bobby sent a hard shock through the collar.

* * *

“There are five original tenets.” Benny spoke to Y/N as they drove to the next hunt. “You already know the first. The second, which I mentioned is ‘Act with compassion and empathy towards all creatures’.”

“So that’s why the Hunters helped you. Why you do it too.” Y/N understood. A way of honoring all life. So contradictory to what she had seen exhibited at The Bunker.

“Just because we hunt, we kill, we save people, doesn’t mean we have to be heartless. Doesn’t mean we can’t offer some level of respect.”

“Like how warriors would honor their fallen foes in battle.” Y/N whispered, more to herself, in awe. Again, it made sense. And again, it made her glad she stayed.

* * *

Dean was desperately sleep deprived, beyond exhausted. Every time he would fall asleep, Bobby was there to wake him with a mid-range shock. The room was unusually warm, the light bright and harsh, stinging Dean’s eyes.

A few days after Bobby had collared Dean, Dean had cracked. Bobby riddled him with information. The histories of The Way, the tenets, the way things were supposed to be. He told Dean truths he didn’t know. About hunts, his father, vile things John had done in the name of The Way for his own personal gain. Dean’s guilt began to eat at him and then Bobby reminded him of every time he spoke up, every beating he took. He reminded him of being locked away, of what John had done to Y/N and others. And what he did to Sam.

That’s when he broke. After Y/N broke the necklace and Sam got his Soul back, Bobby talked to him privately. Sam felt, for whatever reason, that he could trust Bobby. So he told him all he remembered. That’s what made up Bobby’s mind that enough was enough. It’s also what cracked Dean and made him agree to intensive training at the hands of Bobby, to better prepare him to be the leader they all needed him to be. Dean had done his fair share of questionable things. But he never betrayed family. He would never do something like that if he were lucky enough to have children. Even in his darkest mindset, some things you just don’t do. And stealing the Soul of your son to make him compliant and controllable? To Dean, it was unforgivable. It was enough to shock him back to the reality in which they were facing.

“What’s the third tenet?” Bobby demanded. Dean’s mind was groggy, he couldn’t focus. He could only yearn for sleep. Dean muttered something incomprehensible and Bobby issued another minor shock.

“Ugh,” Dean ground out through gritted teeth, “Compassion, wisdom, a-and justice,” Dean’s head lolled to the side as his mind desperately tried to shut down for sleep. Bobby shocked him again and Dean jolted to attention once more. “Compassion, wisdom, and justice should always prevail over the written or spoken word.” Dean spat out as quickly as he could. After which, he let out a long breath, his body going lax in the chair to which he was bound.

* * *

“You’re a little late to the party!” The male Hunter sneered, addressing Benny and Y/N. They had found the location of the Ghouls taking residence in a small town. Just as they arrived, the other Hunter had finished killing the family of three.

“Bill! Good to see you’re doin’ well.” Benny offered, shaking the man’s hand. “This is Y/N.” Benny gestured to Y/N as she too shook Bill’s hand. “Y/L/N,” Benny added with a glare, noting his friend now hungrily eyeing Y/N. Bill took a step back in surprise, nodding between her and Benny.

“Need help?” Benny offered, gesturing to the corpses. Bill shook his head, kicking one of them in the torso.

“Nah, I got it.” He smirked. Y/N growled.

“Act with compassion and empathy towards all creatures.” She confidently recited to Bill. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. Y/N glanced at Benny who lightly shrugged and looked at her, waiting for her action. Y/N lunged forward, grasping Bill’s arm, twisting it behind his back, and forcing him to kneel beside the corpse.

“You will show your respect to your fallen enemies.” She ground out. Bill relented, closing his eyes in a moment of silence. Y/N released him and stepped back to Benny’s side. Benny nodded at her and she looked back to Bill as he rose.

“It’s a new era, Bill. A return to values.” Benny cheerily stated. Bill turned his attention to the corpses and Benny and Y/N walked back to the truck and climbed inside.

“Friend of yours?” Y/N joked, smirking at Benny. He smiled back, always enjoying their conversation and Y/N’s company.

“That was pretty impressive, I must say.”

“See what is right and fair, or the converse, in the behavior exhibited by others, and uphold the righteousness and the moral disposition to do good.” Y/N quoted the fourth tenet with pride, smiling to herself. In the three weeks since she’d left the Bunker, she had changed completely. Benny taught her The Way, the tenets. He guided her in hunting and would critique her after. He was kind, intelligent, and very skilled. He inspired her to want to live up to The Way, to be a part of something greater than herself. She wanted this, believed in it. She smiled at Benny again as his attention was on the road. She let her gaze wander over his crisp, blue eyes and the salt-and-pepper scruff on his face. She felt grateful, and lucky, to have him by her side.

* * *

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Dean complained to Bobby, holding his head in his hands. “Nearly every day I have to face him, to pretend that I don’t care, that I’m disconnected. And every day he says or does something else that makes me wants to, to-” Dean was going red with anger, struggling to formulate his thoughts.

“John needs to believe you’re still in his corner. The element of surprise is all we have on him right now.” Bobby added. “He will pay for his crimes against The Way, according to The Way.”

Dean nodded and let out a breath. “I know. I know, Bobby. But how much more chaos and cruelty are we willing to accept until we strike?” He passionately argued. **  
**

“Right now, our focus is on making you the best leader The Way has ever had. To lead the next generation forward. To continue making the world safer.”

Dean shook his head and frowned. “I’m no leader,” Dean stated. “The community deserves far better than me.” He whispered under his breath. Bobby stood, placing a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“That’s exactly why you’ll be a good leader, Dean. You’ve seen the dark, you’ve seen the light. You believe in The Way now. You’ll carry the traditions forward and bring The Way back to its former glory. You, Sam, Y/N, and all of the other next-gen Elites.” Bobby moved behind Dean, unlocking the collar that Dean had worn for the past month. Dean rubbed at his neck, the absence of the collar unfamiliar.

A knock and the door swung open. John entered closing the door behind him. He walked over and shook Bobby’s hand with a smile, then turned and looked over Dean. Dean immediately stood from his chair at attention, awaiting his father’s instructions. He felt a ghostly pinch on his neck and did his best to not acknowledge it.

“How’s our boy doing?” John asked, almost cheery, as he wore clear exhaustion on his face.

“He’s ready to start training for The Trials.” Bobby offered, crossing his arms across his chest. Dean could feel the stares from both men. John moved to Dean, standing in front of him and placing his hands on Dean’s shoulders.

“Just eight months and my son will take over leadership of The Way.” John beamed with pride. “Tell me, Dean,” John said, stepping back and tugging on his lip in thought, “what are the laws that you will be sworn to uphold?” John raised his brows, waiting for Dean’s response. Dean fought off the ghostly feel of pinching in his neck and the churning of his stomach.

“Hunters do not kill other Hunters,” Dean stated, flashes in his mind of John killing Rufus and Allen. “All enemies are met with swift justice.” He gritted his teeth, trying to sound as though he believed what he was saying. “Winchesters are the final authority in all matters.” Dean wanted to pounce on John, spring on him like a lion and scream of how he violated The Way. How he violated his own laws. But he couldn’t. He needed to be patient, to bide his time. It wasn’t only his skin on the line if he messed up. It was him, Sam, Y/N, Bobby…justice would have to wait.

“We’ll start study and training for the trials soon.” Bobby chimed in, drawing John’s keen attention from Dean. John smiled again, all teeth, as he hugged his friend and went on with his day.

“You ok there, Son?” Bobby asked, eyeing up Dean. Dean glanced long at the closed doorway, his heated gaze practically burning holes through its surface.

“We do not recognize an authoritarian hierarchy,” Dean chanted to himself, “but do honor those who teach,” his voice became more steady and sure as he spoke, “respect those who share their greater knowledge and wisdom, and acknowledge those who have courageously given themselves in leadership.” He finished, squaring his shoulders. Bobby drew Dean’s attention once more.

“Are you ready to give yourself to your people, Dean?”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mary and Ellen overhear John and Crowley talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! I was stuck on this for a little while. Mary and Ellen weren’t cooperating, and then John and Crowley just did NOT want to talk. LOL. I finally broke the block, with several people’s suggestions, and then proceeded to break hearts. I’m so sorry! As always, feedback is appreciated.

Ellen sat at her desk in her quarters, sifting through notes and papers as she scribbled in her notebook. A knock at her door drew her attention from her work as her daughter, Jo, entered, closing the door behind her. Ellen motioned to the chair beside the desk with her head, and Jo took her usual seat. Ellen jotted a few more notes before turning her attention to Jo. **  
**

Jo began prattling off her reports of activities throughout the Bunker. Jo had an ear to the ground and connection to nearly everyone involved in The Way. She was attentive, observant, and charming, so information came easily to her. Once a week, she reported to her mother to keep her informed as well. Information was power and The Harvelles knew all.

“Also,” Jo added as an afterthought before leaving, “Mary has been asking me for increasing quantities of Belladonna.” Jo shrugged.

“Belladonna?” Ellen asked, trying to make sense of it.

“Yeah. I guess she puts it in her tea to help her sleep. I’m just worried she’s using a lot of it.”

Ellen nodded and dismissed Jo with a wave of her hand, turning her attention back to her notes. She paused in thought for several minutes before deciding to put her work away. She decided she would talk to Mary.

* * *

“Hey, Mary, wait up!” Ellen shouted cheerily as she lightly jogged to catch up with Mary. “Where you headed?” Ellen asked, seeing Mary was ready to leave the Bunker.

“Just for a walk. It’s nice to get out for a while, clear my head.” Ellen nodded in agreement.

“Mind if I join you?” Mary nodded with a smile as they headed out together. They walked for a long while in silence, enjoying the sun and fresh air.

“So, I was kind of hoping to talk to you about something.” Ellen started cautiously. Mary was one of her closest friends, always had been. They grew up together in The Way, studied and trained together, and often discussed the difficulty of being women in their male-dominated world.

“I figured as much.” Mary sighed, taking in the foliage around them.

“Have you been having trouble sleeping lately?” Ellen asked with concern. Mary furrowed her brow at the unusual question. “It’s just…Jo told me about your requests for Belladonna…” **  
**

“Yeah,” Mary chimed in, a little too eagerly. “Yeah, just some trouble sleeping.”

Ellen was about to prod further as the two of them heard voices. They quickly hid in the brush, looking for the source. One could never be too cautious. They continued silently moving through the brush before finding the source of the voices. They saw John and a suited male in a small clearing, talking. Mary was about to greet John when Ellen pulled her back down, much to her confusion, and hushed her.

“A sterling job as ever, Winchester,” the suited man scoffed sarcastically, “Pretty  _typical_  these days, actually.”

“I’ll ask  _again_ , Crowley,” John muttered through gritted teeth, “With the necklace shattered, what has happened to Sam’s Soul?” Ellen looked to Mary with shock and confusion, her jaw slack, trying to get answers. Mary shook her head before turning her gaze back to the conversation. Mary knew. She could always sense Sam’s absence of a Soul, maybe because of her own’s absence. But she never knew  _how_  or  _why_ , and she didn’t  _dare_  ask.

“Oh, I’d love to enlighten you,” Crowley shrugged, “But what’s in it for me anymore?”

“What are you talking about?” John was clearly losing patience and control.

“You’re a  _mess_ , Winchester! Look at you! You can’t control your  _family_ , never mind the Hunters you supposedly lead.” Crowley eyed him up and down with disgust and pity. “No, I don’t think I have  _any_  further use of you.”

“We had a deal!” John shouted, stepping towards Crowley, completely enraged. Crowley stepped up to John, eyeing him hard.

“The deal  _was_  you keep your Hunters off my back and out of my business and I  _let_  you keep Mary!” Crowley spat. “Your Hunters are killing my demons and interfering with my transactions.” Crowley took a deep breath and took several steps back from John.

Mary gasped in shock. Ellen could see her friend going pale.  _She hadn’t known_. Mary grew angry and stood from her crouched position. Ellen pulled on her arm, whispering to lure her back into hiding. But Mary wasn’t listening. She marched from her hiding place, directly towards the arguing men. Crowley saw her coming first and noticed her anger.

“Ah, we have a guest!” Crowley smiled, blinking at John. John turned to see Mary walking towards them and his heart sank.

“Mary, what are you-” John started and stopped as Mary pushed him aside, walking directly up to Crowley. Crowley smiled down at her.

“Our business is done.” He whispered, looking at John, before disappearing. Mary turned to John with shock on her face as Crowley’s magic was removed, the fatal bite wound reappearing on her neck as her blood rushed forth. John’s eyes widened in shock as he rushed forth on his knees, catching her just before she fell.

Ellen sat in the bushes, throwing a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries as she sobbed harder than she ever remembered. She couldn’t give up her position. If John knew she was there…Ellen decided to retreat from her hiding spot, slowly backing away. When she felt she was far enough, and took one last look at Mary in John’s arms, she dashed back towards the Bunker. **  
**

John cried heartily as he desperately tried to cover Mary’s wound and stop the bleeding. His efforts were futile as she grew paler, unable to speak from the chunk of flesh missing from her neck.  _Not again, not again_. John thought as he rocked back and forth, feeling the last vestiges of his sanity leaving him. Mary let out a gurgle as blood bubbled forth from her mouth, dripping down her chin. She quietly choked on it, and John could do nothing to help. After several agonizing moments, she passed, her eyes wide in terror. John threw his head back and screamed so loud, Mary felt the thunder of it as her consciousness remet her Soul in Heaven.

* * *

Ellen rushed through the Bunker, pushing people aside on her mission to find Bobby. She knew Bobby was of The Old Way. He constantly stood up against John and his methods. She often found herself torn between the ideals of the Old Way and some of John’s more progressive laws. It all seemed so obvious now, and yet still shocking. Bobby was right, John was a problem. She now knew why John changed, why Mary changed. She knew what John did and why he did it. With Mary gone, and his cries of agony still ringing in her ears, she had no doubts Hell itself was about to rain down upon them.

She found him walking down an annex hallway with Kevin, several old texts and journals held amongst them.

“Bobby, can we talk a minute?” Ellen asked, walking backward to look at him and keep up. Bobby could see she’d been crying. He immediately stopped, looking her over. Panic started to grip at his chest. He nodded his head and Ellen followed as he and Kevin entered the Council Room.

As Ellen entered the room, she stopped. Sam and Dean were seated at the table beside each other, reading through texts. They looked up as Bobby and Kevin entered, then stood straight when they saw Ellen. Bobby placed his armful of texts on the table, lifting a hand to gesture for the boys to return to their seats.

“She’s here to talk to me.” He said. Sam and Dean looked at each other and back to Ellen. Something big was going on.

“No,” Ellen said, closing the door and walking hesitantly towards the group. “You should all know.” She sighed. They all took their seats at the table as listened as Ellen recounted all she knew and heard and her belief that Mary was trying to kill herself and John.

Sam’s head was lowered as he tried to fight off tears, his shoulders slumped as he seemed to curl in on himself. Kevin looked lost and confused, unable to wrap his head around all he heard. Bobby too was at a loss as he formulated new plans and ideas in his mind, trying to create a strategy for any worst case scenarios. Then she looked at Dean. His jaw was locked and clenching, his eyes attentive and empty. His skin grew red as his muscles flexed throughout his body. Bobby looked up at Dean, concern growing over his visible ire.

“Dean,” Bobby warned, seeing the leader-in-training growing increasingly upset with each passing moment he had to process all he heard.

“No!” Dean roared, slamming his fist on the table as he stood, leaning on its surface. “How much longer will this madness go on?!” He demanded. “My mother,” he continued, trying to choke back a sob, “is gone. And she was  _all_  that was holding him together.” He breathed heavily, trying to calm himself. “He has nothing left.” Dean’s tone was ominous as its heavy meaning drifted amongst the attendees like a thick fog.

“And what do you propose we do?” Bobby asked sarcastically as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Let me take the trials now!” Dean pleaded to each at the table. “I can do this-”

“You’re not ready!” Bobby growled, rising to his feet. “Not to mention the fact that the trials are chosen by the Council specifically for the potential leader.”

“Then tell me what I need to do!” Dean begged. “John’s coming through that door and we all know what’s coming. Absolute chaos.” Dean emphasized.

“We can catch him off guard, lock him in the cells downstairs.” Sam offered, remembering the many times John had done this to others, to Dean.

“You need majority Council approval to level any punishments against the Leader.” Kevin chimed in, dropping a book in the center of the table and pointing to the text.

“There are four families here!” Dean added with excitement.

“There are two families here,” Ellen argued with a sigh. “The head of each house is the official voice of the family. Bobby and I are Council members. You three are not.” She added, pointing between the brothers and Kevin. The three dropped their heads in thought.

“I’ll call my Mom. I’m sure she’ll agree.” Kevin offered, stepping away from the table and pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I’ll talk to Garth.” Bobby offered. “He arrived just this morning for the upcoming Council meeting.” Bobby nodded to the group before leaving the room.

“I guess I can talk to Samuel, though I’m not sure how well it will go.” Ellen offered. The Campbells tended to lean in favor of John in all matters. It wouldn’t be an easy sell. “One of you can contact Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Dean asked, worried and confused.

“She’s the only remaining Y/L/N Elite,” Sam said, shrugging. He and Dean looked at each other for a long moment, having a silent conversation.

“I’ll talk to her.” Dean sighed, Sam, nodding in agreement.

“Probably better that you do,” Sam said apologetically as he stood and left the room.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Reader and Benny say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! Sometimes people come into our life to make it better or teach us a lesson, and then they’re gone. And we always remember them for the impact they made on our lives. As always, feedback is appreciated. : )

“Ok, Dean. We’ll leave in the morning.” Y/N said, hanging up her phone. She sighed heavily, staring at the phone in her hands before Benny cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Mary’s dead.” She spoke finally. Benny’s eyes went wide as he sat on the motel bed beside Y/N. “There’s going to be a memorial and a Council meeting.” She finished, dropping her gaze to her hands. **  
**

“We’ll head out first thing.” Benny agreed. “This is your chance to take your rightful seat on the Council.” He added, trying to keep her focused. She scoffed, standing and pacing the room.

“People keep dying!” She spoke, an edge to her voice. “And I don’t know if I can go back and face them…Dean a-and S-S-” She couldn’t say his name. In the time she had spent with Benny, she had lost herself in the hunt, the values, in  _him_. She didn’t want to return to the chaos of the Bunker, the politics and hedonism within. She wanted to be free, to hunt, to live The Way. And she wanted to do it all with Benny.

“I know,” Benny said, still sitting on the bed, grabbing her gently by the wrist to bring her to stand in front of him. “But your path leads you places I can’t go.” He added, standing to look her in the eyes. He brushed hair out of her face and regarded her tenderly.

“I wanna stay here, with you.” She whispered, her eyes pleading with him. Benny wished that he could. But they lead different lives, served different purposes. Sure, they would see each other from time to time, but not often enough. Tomorrow morning, their paths would separate. He didn’t want to admit it, same as her. He didn’t want to hurt her either.

“I’m sorry, Cherie, but this is where we end.” His voice was sympathetic as he gazed over her. “Elites tend to pair with Elites, keeping their families tightly knit. Outsiders are rarely allowed to mix.”

“The Hell with that!” Y/N burst forth with anger, taking a step back from Benny. “I’ll be damned if I’m to be married off to some, some Elite! After what they did to me…” Benny took a deep breath. He knew they couldn’t be together, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t show her what being with someone who cares about you means.

“I can’t be that person for you.” He breathed, cupping her face, “But I can show you what it means to be loved.” He offered, slowly leaning in to kiss her. She responded eagerly and Benny deepened the kiss. He could feel her muscles tense, a hesitation in her, as he ran his hands down her sides, gathering her close to him. “Please,” he whispered against her lips, “Let me show you how good it can be.”

Y/N nodded and swallowed hard, deciding to let Benny take the reigns. They slowly removed each other's clothing, taking the time to appreciate the newly revealed flesh with each item removed. Y/N took the time to appreciate his firm and muscular body, his warmth, his breath upon her skin. It was so different from anything she had experienced before. It felt nice, comforting, and wasn’t forced upon her. **  
**

Benny moved to lay her back on the bed gently. She lay back, scooting herself up the mattress until her head was resting on the pillows. She tried to cover herself, never having a man eyes travel her naked form like this. As he did. His eyes devoured every inch of her hungrily as he slowly crawled over her body. He leaned down kissing her again until he felt her relax beneath him. He pulled back, gazing down at her affectionately.

“Are you sure?” He breathed out, patiently waiting for her response. She paused, then nodded slowly.

“I don’t want my only experience to be bad.” She looked so vulnerable and open. “Please,” she whispered, placing a hand on the back of his neck and whispering against his lips. “Show me what it feels to be loved.” Benny smiled as he captured her lips once more, working his way down her body. He lavished attention on her breasts, kissing, licking and sucking as he kneaded the other, switching once she was writhing beneath him. He smiled as he kissed down her torso, dipping his tongue into her navel before working lower and nipping at her hips.

“W-what are you doing?” She stuttered, fear and confusion taking over as she looked down at Benny. His head hovered between her thighs, his blue eyes shining up at her.

“Getting you ready for me.” He smirked before lowering his head. Her thighs shook as she felt his breath ghosting over her sensitive parts. He turned his head and nipped at her thigh, causing her to squeak in surprise. He fought off a playful chuckle as he suddenly licked up her center. Her head fell back, eyes shut, as she moaned loudly from the sensation.

Benny smiled again before focusing on his task. He sucked on her clit and lips, lowering his tongue to delve into her tight and wet sweetness before moving up again. He continued in this fashion until Y/N was squirming above him, her hips gyrating in circles, chasing his tongue. Her hands flew to grip his short hair as he began adding a finger and then a second to her heat, pumping slowly as he continued to devour her. As she hummed and sang, tugging harshly on his hair, he stopped. He smiled at her disappointment and disheveled state.

“Someone’s eager.” He teased, talking through the demanding kiss she planted on him. Her thighs squeezed his hips as he lay his weight upon her. She sighed in satisfaction as their bodies met. Her arms wrapped around his back, her hands upon his shoulder blades. She felt his muscles move beneath her fingertips as he licked up her neck, growling low as he lingered on her pulse point. Her body stiffened, scared suddenly that he might bite her. He rutted his hardness against her moist folds as he nibbled her earlobe.

“I won’t bite you.” He promised, looking her in the eye. “I won’t hurt you. Not ever.” He swore, shaking his head lightly. She searched his eyes and nodded, pulling him to her again. He positioned himself at her entrance and slowly slid forth into her welcoming and receptive heat. Benny sighed, slowly tossing his head back and lowering it once more, just as slowly, to meet her eyes. Her mouth hung open in surprise, her brow furrowed as she exhaled. Benny kissed along her collarbone, waiting for her. She tested her hips, wriggling beneath him and gasping.

He began to move his hips back slowly, drawing himself out before pushing back in just as slow, watching her face for any discomfort. He found only surprise and pleasure etched in her features. He smirked, taking her in, as he moved his hips to a faster rhythm. **  
**

Y/N marveled in the feel of him inside of her. Her walls clenched around his length, welcoming the intrusion. His skin, now starting to sweat, slid against hers in the most delicious way. She could smell his musk as it filled her nostrils, a smile creeping its way to her lips.

“More,  _please_.” She begged, kissing at his chin, nipping at his throat. He grunted, wrapping his arms around her, hiking her leg higher on his hip. He slid in further, bottoming out. He kissed along her arms as they were wrapped around him, working himself steadily within her. Her soft moans and whimpers egging him on.

“I’m-I’m,” Y/N stuttered, her mind losing all focus as she was consumed by nothing but lust and pleasure. Benny placed a hand over her tailbone, angling her hips so he could hit her sweet spot dead on. Her mouth dropped open in a loud gasp, nearly a scream, as he thrust harder and faster, bringing her over that edge. Her back arched as she released, endless incoherent sounds falling from her lips. Benny kissed her hard, swallowing her moans and screams as he released inside of her with a growl.

Benny pulled himself from her, positioning himself to lay beside her, half of his body still covering hers as he held her close, waiting for her to catch her breath. She turned her head finally, meeting his gaze.

“Thank you.” Y/N whispered, kissing him softly. Benny smiled at her, capturing her lips once more.

* * *

Dean stood outside waiting as he watches Benny’s truck approaching up the drive. He shuffled from foot to foot. He had been practicing all night. How to fill Y/N in on everything that happened, what they were trying to do. He needed her support and approval, as an Elite family and Council member, though not yet official. He wanted to talk to her before anyone else did. He was worried that because of his,  _training methods_ , and the fact that John killed her father and Sam, well,  _did what he did_ , that Y/N would fight anything just because it was them.

Dust flew in the air and swirled around Dean as the truck came to a stop in front of the Bunker main entrance. Y/N climbed out of the truck, dropping to the ground. She turned to retrieve her duffel. As she slammed the door and turned towards Dean, he could see her father’s blade in a sheath on her thigh, held in place by three straps. Thought Y/N had only been gone a month, she looked leaner, more firm. Even her features bore the telltale sign of a Hunter or fighter. They were harder and somehow aged from her formerly soft and innocent appearance from before. She looked the part of a proud Hunter, of an Elite.

Dean was entranced, caught off guard by his sudden  _need_  to  _train_  her more, see what she could really do, now that she had been in the field. A sharp pinch on his neck made him wince, a former electric current replaced by a subconscious tick reminding him right from wrong. In a way, he was grateful for the constant guidance. In another way, it was torturous.

“Welcome back.” Dean greeted Y/N with a smile. She offered a small smirk in response, looking back at Benny as he waved at her. “He not sticking around?” Dean asked, a little quieter than before.

“No.” She stated simply, watching him leave. She turned back to Dean. “I’m sorry about Mary.” She offered. They shared a moment of understanding, of comfort over losing a parent. Dean nodded, trying and failing to force a smile.

“We should talk,” Dean said as he placed an arm lightly on Y/N’s lower back, guiding her forward back into the Bunker.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mary’s Memorial Service and the Council Meeting of all Elite families.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! I’m just gonna let the story speak for itself here. Feedback is appreciated. : )

The funeral pyre stood erect at ten feet tall and was constructed of various wood from the surrounding trees. It took several hours to build, all available hands lending their strength to its completion. Mary’s body lay atop the pyre, wrapped in cloth and surrounded by several flowers. As the sun began to dop beyond the horizon, several torches were lit and placed standing in the ground around the pyre, casting light upon the stack of wood and its surroundings. **  
**

The Council meeting was postponed to the following day, making room for Mary’s memorial service. All Elite families, and any Hunters who could attend were present for the service. John stood on a wooden platform overlooking the pyre, Sam and Dean flanking him on either side. Y/N stood on the ground, opposite of the Winchesters, looking up at them as they started the ritual to send off Mary. It was all very formal. Everyone seemed to set aside their problems and differences if only for a moment, to share in their grief over the loss of a loved one.

Y/N had to admit, the sight of the three large and stoic Winchesters would be intimidating at the least, if not for the grief lingering in their eyes. Y/N hadn’t known Mary. Though she felt the collective mourning from all around her, she didn’t feel it. If anything, she felt angry. Angry that her father didn’t receive a similar treatment. Angry that all were being forced to sympathize with the Winchesters. But she also felt fear. With Mary gone, what would stop John from terrorizing everyone? From changing Sam and Dean again? With all three Winchesters lost in grief, what would that mean for the rest of them? For The Way?

She tried to push aside her thoughts as the service continued. John, a smaller torch in hand, held the torch out above the pyre as he spoke the words of tradition.

“Today,” John spoke with a clear and booming voice, somehow amplified by the silence of the many attendees and the night air around them, “We say farewell to a sister of The Way.” His voice softened slightly as he continued speaking. “Mary Campbell Winchester served The Way as an Elite. She was a friend, a mother, a wife, and a skilled Hunter. May Heaven throw wide its arms and welcome her.” He dropped the torch onto the pyre. Each head of the Elite families took a similar torch, placing it into the base of the pyre. All stood in silence as the flames roared to life, consuming the wooden pyre and engulfing it in large flames.

As people began to leave, the flames wearing down the pyre, Y/N stood, seemingly entranced by the fire. She couldn’t help but feel a symmetry to it. The way the flames, started by these Hunters, encased the body and burnt it to ash. She felt the Hunters had done the same to her life. When she walked through those doors, she too had been consumed by fire, her former life nothing but ash. Y/N decided to leave any lingering remnants of who she once was, and the life she once lived, to die in the fire.

* * *

“They’re gathering in the Council Room now.” Samuel spoke, finishing his report to John. “The families are planning to overthrow you.” He continued. Samuel had, for a long time, reported everything to John. The Campbells were always in John’s corner, even more so as he grew cruel and dominating. They would sit in on Council meetings, talk with other Elites and Hunters, and play the part of the dutiful Elite. But no one knew that Samuel played both sides of the fence, reporting everything to John. He knew reporting this information would remove their element of surprise, and he hoped John would have a plan of action for retaliation. **  
**

“So they’re all in accord then?” John added, nodding his head as he processed.

“Some took a little more convincing than others, but yes.” Samuel offered once more. John nodded again, waving his hand to dismiss Samuel. He bowed his head in response and left, pulling out his phone as he marched through the halls of the Bunker.

“It’s me,” Samuel began, checking his surroundings as he ducked into an empty room. “The Elites are planning to move against John. John has been informed and will most likely retaliate.” Samuel whispered into the phone.

“Good. You’ve done well. I look forward to working with you more in the future, Samuel.” Crowley crooned, ending the phone call. Samuel smiled to himself. Finally, The Campbells would stake a claim on Leadership of The Way. They were already the largest of the Elite families. With Crowley on their side, they were sure to garner a power unmatched by any other. They just had to get rid of the others, and Dean had rallied them to do just that.

* * *

The Council Room buzzed with activity as all attendees talked at once, trying to be heard over the others and make their points known. The center table was surrounded by the head of each family, taking their usual seats. The room itself had chairs lining the walls, the extended family of each Elite clan seated to provide their input and support for their own family. Council meetings usually consisted of just the heads of household. But, due to Mary’s recent demise and the increasing threat of John’s leadership, each family as a whole was present, where available.

“We can’t just  _‘lock him up’_  as Sam so succinctly put.” Linda Tran spat out. Her son, Kevin, sat with arms crossed behind her position, eyeing the room cautiously as everyone seemed in a heated uproar. “Assuming we could even manage to do that, what then?” She scoffed, clearly irritated at the lack of a solution or fruitful thinking.

“We could just kill him when he walks in the room.” Y/N muttered, more to herself. Though it was loud enough to cause the room to fall silent.

“That’s not how The Way works.” Bobby chastised.

“Nothing around here seems to work.” Y/N added, leaning forward on the table. “No one follows the tenets of The Way. Everyone seems to just do as they please, including John!”

“We’re trying to rebuild The Way how it’s supposed to be,” Dean added from his position at the wall next to Sam, looking first at Y/N and then the rest of the group. “We need to follow the rules and guidelines and do this right. Two wrongs don’t make a right!” He pleaded with the group.

“Dean’s right,” Bobby added reluctantly. “The Tenets tell us that we have the responsibility to uphold righteousness and the moral disposition to do good. To see what is right and fair in the behavior exhibited by others. While we are well within our rights and means to challenge his leadership, we are not  _murderers_.” He emphasized. **  
**

“So we incarcerate him until a Gauntlet can be planned for him to pay for his sins,” Gadreel added. He was rarely, if ever present at Council meetings. Though he was Bobby’s son, he was the youngest. His elder brother, Mark, tended to be at the meetings when he wasn’t busy running the Singer region. Several nodded in agreement at his plan.

“And then what?” Garth added. He was head of The Fitzgerald clan, and also ran the regional lands in Alaska and the surrounding areas. As his son, his only child was not even a teenager yet, Garth had the responsibility of running his family. It was manageable seeing as how their family and lands were the smallest of the group. Garth never complained. It allowed him to uphold The Way while maintaining a safe distance from the politics of the Bunker.

“The Trials.” Jo chimed in, all eyes turning to her. “We initiate The Trials to elect a new leader of The Way.” Ellen turned back to the group, brows raised, as she contemplated.

“I’m ready!” Dean offered as he stepped up to the table.

“Are you now?” John’s voice boomed through the room as he entered, the Campbells in tow. All new members took their appropriate seats within the room. John stood at the head of the table, his fists leaning against its edge. John dropped his head with a smirk before raising it to look over the group.

“Let me start,” John began, extending his hands out as he spoke, “by thanking you all for coming and attending my wife’s memorial.” His voice was surprisingly upbeat. The fact that he went straight to formalities had everyone on edge. Each person held their own look of being caught red-handed. “Now that we're all here,” he sat in his chair, propping his feet up on the table, “let’s continue this discussion of  _leadership_.”

Everyone glanced between them with unease, no one willing to speak up first. Y/N took a swallow before motioning to stand up. Before she could fully stand, John, interrupted her.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, pointing a finger at Y/N.

“I-,” She stuttered, then cleared her throat as she stood tall, staring at John who sat directly to her left. “I am the only Y/L/N Elite, therefore, I am taking my place on the Council as a rightful head of my clan.” She stood tall and proud, grateful she was able to speak with an even tone. Being so close to John made her fingers twitch, wanting to grab her blade and lay a blow. She struggled to contain herself.

“Any opposed?” John asked with a smile, looking to all in the room. When heads shook no, he looked to Y/N. “Welcome, Y/L/N.” He sneered. Y/N fought to maintain control. As he made to speak again, Y/N interrupted him.

“I am also demanding the return of my family’s regional hunting lands into my authority.” She added, again looking only at John. He laughed, dropping his feet and sitting forward.

“Demand?” He asked, a huge grin plastered on his face. “Are you demanding your lands back, little Y/L/N?” Her eyes wandered the room then, uncertain and suddenly very insecure as she noticed everyone watching her. She swallowed hard, trying to gain her courage. “Your family left The Way,” John said, standing, “And as such, forfeited their right to  _anything_.” He sneered. “You’re lucky everyone saw fit to even include you at this table!” He shouted. Y/N visibly jumped from the sound. John leaned in very close to whisper in her ear, “If I were you I would sit and learn my place.” He added, just for her. He stared her down cold as she slowly lowered herself into her seat, gripping the armrests for support. **  
**

“Now, about leadership,” John continued, his false grin spread wide across his face as he addressed the room, “You all seem to think this is some sort of Democracy.” He began slowly walking around the table, behind the chairs of every Elite. Several chairs creaked as everyone was on guard, moving to keep John in their sights. “This,” he gestured to all around him, “is The  _Winchester_  Way,” he emphasized each word.

The doors burst open as several members of the extended Campbell family entered the room, rifles, and blades in hand. As they entered, everyone was on their feet. Before they could react, the Campbell clan attacked. Ellen and Linda were knocked out by blows to the chin, Jo and Kevin being snatch up and held as they screamed their protests. John laughed maniacally as the Campbells subdued the other families quickly and easily.

The laughter and confusion stopped as several long, dark clouds of smoke swam about the room. John’s face grew grim in realization as he saw Crowley emerge from the doorway.

“Crowley!” John scowled, rushing towards the demon, pushing others out of his way. Just as he reached him, Crowley flicked his wrist. John fell to knees before Crowley, his arms extended out as he screamed in pain from the twisting of his insides.

“Did you miss me?” Crowley whispered to John. “You’re no match for the King of Hell!” Crowley spat.

“You’re not my King!” John ground out through clenched teeth.

“And yet, you’re on your knees.” Crowley crooned as he stepped around John and walked to Samuel. “Excellent work, Campbell.” Samuel bowed his head, a fist across his chest.

“My King.” He stated with reverence.

“Yes, you’ll be a fine  _leader_ ,” Crowley smirked, Samuel mimicking his actions as he stood and dropped his arm.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Crowley and Samuel are in cahoots. How will the Elites react?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!! I am so sorry this took so damn long. Inspiration flitted away, but it was always in the back of my mind. Now, I’m trying to focus back on the story and hopefully not intimidate myself from what I’m trying to accomplish in future chapters. Thank you to everyone who waited so damn patiently. Unbeta’d.

**_Previously…_ **

_“Crowley!” John scowled, rushing towards the demon, pushing others out of his way. Just as he reached him, Crowley flicked his wrist. John fell to knees before Crowley, his arms extended out as he screamed in pain from the twisting of his insides._

_“Did you miss me?” Crowley whispered to John. “You’re no match for the King of Hell!” Crowley spat._

_“You’re not my King!” John ground out through clenched teeth._

_“And yet, you’re on your knees.” Crowley crooned as he stepped around John and walked to Samuel. “Excellent work, Campbell.” Samuel bowed his head, a fist across his chest._

_“My King.” He stated with reverence._

_“Yes, you’ll be a fine leader.” Crowley smirked, Samuel mimicking his actions as he stood and dropped his arm._

* * *

“You won’t get away with this!” John ground out, struggling against his invisible bonds. The other Elites in the room readied themselves for a fight, quickly cut off by Crowley’s scowling and the Campbell clan readying their weapons, their eyes flashing black as they were eager to spill blood.

“I can, and I am.” Crowley crooned, turning his attention back to Samuel who looked around at his family and friends, seeing their black eyes, his throat suddenly dry.

“You possessed my clan?” Samuel asked Crowley in soft tones, his eyes wide as he realized he too had been duped by the King of Hell.

“Now, Samuel,” Crowley scolded him, “You didn’t think I’d just leave it all in your hands, did you?” Crowley laughed before going serious, a pout playing on his lips, “Oh, you did. That’s cute.”

“You said I would lead The Way.” Samuel protested, following Crowley as he stepped past the leering hunters, back towards John.

“And so you shall, my own personal puppet.”

“That’s not what I signed up for! You took my family!” Samuel growled, his own frustrations mounting in light of new events. Samuel wanted the power, to rule and run as he saw fit. But he never intended to put his clan in harm’s way, never intended for Crowley to actually  _run_ things.

Crowley rolled his eyes with a sigh, “If you won’t play ball, then I have no use for you.” he warned. Samuel looked around the room, catching the black in the eyes of his kin, the worry, and anger on the faces of the other Elites in attendance.

He sighed heavily, seeing no other options, “My King.” he spoke softly, barely a nod of acknowledgment and lacking the earlier fervor.

Crowley smirked approvingly, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. Now, what to do about the drabble?” Crowley tapped a finger on his chin in thought as he slowly circled the room.

“You will pay for this,” Dean spoke calmly, staring down Crowley. The King spun on his heels, brows raised as he regarded the elder Winchester brother. He tilted his chin upwards and the Campbell at Dean’s back quickly kicked out Dean’s knee, knocking him to his knees with a wince before Crowley.

“Samuel,” Crowley spoke, walking towards him and stopping to remove the large hunting knife at John’s side. John growled, teeth bared and Crowley smirked at him. He stood before Samuel, holding out the blade to him, “First order of business.” he nodded towards John, “Removal of the former Leadership.”

As she spoke, Sam and Dean were moved by their captors and forced to kneel beside their father. Samuel looked at them and the blade, his eyes pleading with Crowley.

“They’re my grandsons.” he protested, shaking his head, “I won’t kill them,” he spoke firmly, balling his fists at his sides.

“Then I have no use for you.” Crowley spat, before driving the blade into Samuel’s heart, watching as his eyes went wide and his body fell lifeless to the floor. “Any other protesters?” Crowley asked, blade in hand as he turned to address the room. All eyes were wide as they looked between each other and the lifeless body of Samuel on the floor, his blood pooling around him and staining the concrete floor beneath him.

_Give me strength_ , Y/N prayed, closing her eyes for a moment. As she opened them, she swiftly removed her father’s blade from its sheath on her thigh, jabbing it behind her in one fluid motion, feeling as it caught in the flesh of the Campbell woman behind her. She removed the blade just as quick, hearing a gurgling before a thud, indicating the body fell to the floor.

Y/N stood straight, twirling the blade in her hand and adjusting her grip, staring down Crowley with a smirk. Crowley turned his attention to her, shocked and slightly impressed with the young huntress.

“You want a go at me?” Crowley laughed, taking a step towards her. With his focus broken, John was suddenly released from his hold. He looked to his two sons beside him who nodded before the three stood, shoulder to shoulder, to face Crowley’s back.

As the Winchesters stood, the other Elites exchanged glances, before turning on their captors. Blades flew through the air, shots ringing out as all-out war raged in the Counsel Room. Crowley scowled at the Winchesters before disappearing, leaving his minions to do his work for him. At the sight of their King retreating, the Campbells that remained - and weren’t already killed in the battle - smoked out, their long-dead meat-suits falling lifelessly to the ground.

“Mom!” Jo cried out, cradling her mother’s limp body, her pulse gone as she bled from a fatal wound during the attack.

Gadreel was knelt in much the same position, trying to help his father Bobby as he struggled to hold on. Dean’s eyes scanned the room, several others badly wounded. He needed to help them, he needed to save his people. In spite of his better judgment, he called for Cas, praying with all he had as he had done in the past.

“Dean.” Castiel appeared behind him, Dean spinning to address him.

“Save them.” he ordered, “Please,” he added in a softer tone, pointing to the many injured and dead littered across the floor.

Castiel pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at Dean. He wasn’t comfortable having been summoned amongst all the hunters, even less so that Dean saw him as some personal errand boy. But he relented, unable to watch as several people suffered and died. He made his way around the room, checking over those with grave injuries, leaving those with minor or livable wounds to care for themselves. The hunters watched in awe as light shone above body after body, Castiel attempting to heal what he could.

“I could only save your friend Bobby,” Castiel reported back to Dean. “I’m afraid Ellen and Linda have already passed.” he offered sympathetically, a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder before he was gone once more.

“This is your fault!” Kevin seethed, stomping towards John, intent on his destruction. Dean stepped in front of his father, holding a hand out to stop Kevin.

“This is not the way…” Dean urged Kevin, trying to calm him down. Kevin glared over Dean’s shoulder at John and he smirked in response.

“He’s right.” Bobby came forward, pushing his son away from him as he approached the Winchesters. “John, the Council has decided, due to your many crimes against the Way, that you are to be held accountable for your actions.”

“You are accused of Murder of another hunter.” Y/N spoke, stepping forward.

“You are accused of ignoring the Tenants and making your own laws.” Jo stepped towards the group with a heavy heart, realizing she was now the Harvelles Head of Clan.

Dean nodded, turning to face his father. John’s presence was overwhelming. Dean felt his stomach twist, remembering the consequences of every time he stood up against his father. But he was to be a leader, and he needed to start acting like it, for his people - or what was left of them.

“John Winchester,” Dean spoke clearly to be heard by the room, swallowing hard but standing his ground, “You will be held until such time that you can face The Gauntlet.”

John sneered, moving to attack his son, before having his hands roughly clasped behind his back, Sam placing iron cuffs and chains on his wrists. John looked over his shoulder at Sam, seeing the look in his eyes and realizing Sam was no longer under his control.

John turned back to Dean, licking his lips, “You think you can do better?” John teased, chuckling, “You’re not man enough to take me on.”

“Ah, shut up!” Bobby grumbled, him and Gadreel leading John away by the arms towards the dungeon. Dean let out a shaky breath and Sam nodded at him approvingly.

“Dean,” Kevin interrupted, “We can’t wait any longer. With John locked up and so many dead…” he breathed out, “You have to take the Trials right away. We need a Leader.”

Dean looked around the room, the families torn, bruised and battered, scared and relieved. But they all looked to  _him_. They believed in him and expected him to lead The Way.

“Arrange the Trials,” he said confidently, turning and leaving the room. Ready or not, it was time. After the Trials, Dean would either be their new Leader or be dead.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Dean prepares to face the Trials. An unexpected “guest” shows up at the Bunker. (I’m terrible at summaries, sorry.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to @winsister91 for helping keep me on track with this, I struggled. Thank you to my readers for your patience with this fic. Feedback is appreciated. : )

_The Trials_. A Right of Passage, a ceremony, to acknowledge and test the next in line to lead The Way. Ezra Winchester, son of the founder of The Way - Elijah Winchester - was the first to take the Trials. He assisted in designing them and insisted that it was necessary, for him to prove his worth to the cause and his ability and determination to lead The Way.

The Trails consisted of three phases: Separation, Liminality, and Incorporation. Separation completely withdrew the individual from their current status and prepared them to move to the next, meaning Dean would no longer be an Elite, or even considered a part of The Way - a civilian. Liminality, or transition, was the in-between phase of being no one and becoming their Leader. It was during this phase that Dean would be put to the test at the Gauntlet, his foes carefully selected by the Council. The final phase, Incorporation, would see the individual who successfully completed the Trials assume their new identity and re-enter The Way with their new status.

After the mass Memorial Service and Hunter’s Funeral for those that had passed in the scuffle with Crowley, the Council decided to start the Trails, since most everyone was in attendance for those lost. Dean stood on the platform, overlooking the massive pyre that was now reduced to embers. Bobby, as Eldest Council Member, over sought the proceedings, the ritual should have been overseen by his father, a ceremonial passing of the torch.

Dean pushed the thoughts from his mind as he readied himself. In front of all, he was stripped of all weapons, charms, jewelry, and anything else, leaving him in only his shoes, jeans, and a t-shirt. These were now his only belongings. He was formally designated as a Hunter-In-Training and would be treated as such. He was allowed to return to his room, which had also been stripped bare. He was made to follow a strict schedule enforced by Charlie, much as Y/N had experienced upon her arrival.

Dean quickly learned that those involved with new trainees were not going to go easy on him. If anything, they stepped up their game, putting Dean through rigorous training, tortures, methods he himself had designed and taught these people to emulate. He was oddly grateful for the harshness. He needed it, to remind him of who he was, and who he was to become. For three weeks, Dean trained, practiced, studied, recited, barely ate and barely slept. But he had passed every test they had given him, some of which he barely made through, and had the new scars to prove it.

As the Gauntlet rapidly approached, Dean wondered what would be waiting for him. He would face three rounds, same as any other opponent in the Gauntlet. The Council would pick his foes for each round and Dean would be allowed to choose one weapon to fight. He had already decided on his Angel blade, a gift from Castiel long before. It felt good and balanced in his hand and could kill almost anything, though it had been a while since he had seen any real field combat. So he practiced with his blade, every waking moment, in the final days leading up to the Gauntlet.

Dean knew he might not survive it. The Council had a responsibility to choose specific opponents to challenge him, it was not supposed to be easy. In his studies and discussions with Sam, he learned about more creatures he had never faced, creatures that were housed in the dungeon in waiting. Dean cursed himself, knowing he’d spent the last few years as the sheltered “Prince”, torturing and fucking anything he could get his hands on, instead of being a Hunter, like they were all meant to be. He vowed if he passed the Trials, to change that, to honor his family name and The Way and be something that his children, his family, and the community could be proud of.

* * *

Y/N found herself standing outside Dean’s door, the night before the Gauntlet and the Trials. She had worked with Dean on some training, the two of them sparring as they recited lore and the Tenants together. Dean had swiftly accused her of showing favoritism and not following the guidelines of the Trials. She quickly refuted, knocking him on his ass and straddling his chest as her father’s blade met his throat. She insisted she was simply helping another hunter, another trainee, as Benny had helped her. Dean agreed, accepting the assistance and grateful for her company.

Y/N lifted her hand to knock on Dean’s door, letting herself in as he beckoned from the other side.

“Hey,” she spoke softly, closing the door behind her and leaning against the wall, watching at Dean sat at his desk, reading over papers. “Just wanted to see how you were doing. You ready for tomorrow?”

Dean put away his papers, turning in his chair and looking her over, “As ready as I’ll ever be I guess.” he joked with a shrug, watching her smirk.

“When I first met you, I hated you.” she laughed nervously, cautiously meeting his eyes. “I hated this place and everyone here and all it stood for…”

“And now?” Dean asked curiously, a smile tugging at his lips.

“And now,” she breathed out, shaking her head, “Now, this is my life, my legacy, and I’m proud of what it could be.”

Dean nodded, looking down at his lap before rising from his seat and tucking the chair back into the desk. “It’s designed to be something amazing.” he breathed out, “I’m just hoping I can get it back there.” he smiled humbly at her.

“For what it’s worth,” she stated, walking up to him and meeting his eyes, “I think you have the potential to be a great Leader.”

“Assuming I make it out alive.” Dean chuckled, trying to ease the growing tension he felt between them. There it was again. That fleeting feeling she brought out of him since the moment she arrived. For whatever reason, he latched onto her. The fact that his feelings even existed brought her so much pain and trauma, and he was utterly baffled by it. Yet here she was, after all of it, supporting him, helping him.

“You will,” she stated confidently. “You’re not the man I first met anymore. You’re not John’s puppet. You’re not sadistic and evil just because you want to be.” she placed a hand over his heart, looking into his eyes, “You’re a good man, underneath it all. I have faith in you, Dean.”

He briefly wondered if she could feel his heart beating harder under her palm as his hand covered hers. “I’m so sorry.” he breathed out, struggling against his urge to just take what he wanted, feeling that ghostly pinch in his neck at the thought, “In case I don’t make it tomorrow-”

“You will.” she insisted, interrupting him.

“In case I don’t…” sorrow took over his features, “I’m sorry for what you had to endure and for my part in it.”

Y/N let his words settle over her, feeling a sudden comfort and release from his admission. She looked into his eyes, seeing the truth in them, and the burden and guilt of the life he had been living. In a moment’s decision, she reached up on her toes, placing a soft peck on his lips. When he didn’t respond, she immediately wondered what would happen to her for being so bold. Dean quickly grabbed her up, kissing her hard with everything he had held back, everything he didn’t understand. He had kissed countless women, but it never felt like this. It unnerved him and confused him, but he didn’t want it to stop.

Initially, she froze. She clutched onto his shirt for balance more than anything. As his swollen lips continued to attack hers, she didn’t feel an ounce of resistance in her body. It was Dean. Dean. A man who a short time ago struck fear in her heart, but now… something deep and buried was being unearthed. She moaned softly, parting her lips and welcoming him.

Dean moaned in response, delving his tongue into her mouth and tasting her fully. His hands tightened their hold on her sides as he pressed her harder against him. He began moving with an urgency and hunger that bubbled through his veins. He bit her lower lip harshly and felt that familiar pinch in his neck. He growled in response to his body as his mind swirled between his hunger for her and the sadistic side of him wanting to take charge.

Her lower lip throbbed from his bite. His hands were grabbing her tighter, tugging at the material of her clothes. Her nerve endings sprang to life, pimples rising on her skin. His growls were sinful and made her core flurry with want but on her own terms. A devilish moan flowed from her lips as she dug her nails into him through the back of his shirt. She used her body weight for momentum, pushing him a few steps back and sending him thudding into the rear wall, ripping a vicious snarl from his lips. Leaning into him with all her strength, she devoured his mouth, before swiftly pulling back and attacking the exposed skin on his neck.

Dean hissed at the bites she left, his skin itching and on fire, his stomach twisting into knots of need. He growled, quickly spinning and pinning her against the wall, his lips now nipping and sucking along her neck. Her head dropped back, thudding against the wall as a low moan rumbled from her chest. She could feel his smirk against her skin before he wrapped his arms around her, swiftly manhandling her to the bed and dropping on top of her.

A flash of Sam popped into her mind, causing her body to go rigid momentarily before her anger, lust, and determination set in. She growled, shoving at his shoulders and flipping him beneath herself. She ground against his jean-clad erection as she leaned down and kissed him hard, exhibiting her own control. Dean whined, feeling her heat grinding against him, her lips tasting and devouring his mouth. For a moment, he let himself get lost in her, let her take from him what she wanted.

As she continued to tease him, Dean grew increasingly frustrated. He flipped her quickly, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, his fierce eyes boring into hers. She gasped, a look of fear twinkling in her eyes and Dean’s cock jumped at the sight. He felt the stinging in his neck once more, closing his eyes and tilting his head with clenched teeth as he fought off the beast within, begging to be set free. The sight sent Y/N reeling, her hips undulating against his of their own will.

When Dean met her eyes again, they were blown wide with lust. His hands drifted from her wrists, down her arms and torso to the hem of her shirt. His eyes never left hers as his touch was surprisingly gentle.

“And here I thought you just took what you wanted.” Y/N laughed nervously, swallowing hard, still unsure if she could trust Dean.

“I don’t want to  _take_  from you.” Dean responded earnestly, “I want you to give yourself to me, willingly. All of you.”

“I am-”

“ _All_  of you.” Dean countered, grinding himself against her slightly, his eyes still fixed on hers. “If I pass the Trials…if I succeed and lead The Way…” he breathed out heavily, “I want you to be mine.”

“Yours?” Y/N asked in shock, sitting up slightly on her elbows, “But-”

“I need to take a wife.” he stated calmly, “And I want you.”

“A wife?”

“Elites marry Elites, Y/N. It’s The Way. I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you. I don’t like the idea of anyone else having you either. I especially don’t like that Sam and Benny have had you.” he adds with a slight growl.

“Dean…I-I don’t know…”

“Give yourself to me, Y/N,” Dean whispered against her lips, lowering her back to the bed and pressing himself to her once more. “Give me everything,” he commanded as he let kisses trail down her jaw and neck, nipping along her throat. She moaned and writhed beneath him, her hands holding him to her as her mind ran a mile-a-minute.

She didn’t want to be forced to marry. But she also wanted to support The Way. In accordance with tradition, she would have to take an Elite husband. Gadreel was so cold and something about him rubbed her the wrong way. Not to mention his strange obsession with all things Sam. Sam. Although he had changed after getting his soul back and was actually a really kind and intelligent person, she couldn’t manage to shake all she endured from his soulless self. Kevin was a friendly person, just not someone she could ever imagine being within that capacity. That left only one option, Dean.

Y/N was pulled from her thoughts as her shirt was lifted from her body, drawing her eyes back to Dean whose lips were working their way in between her bra covered breasts.

“At the moment, you are not an Elite.” Y/N responded with a small grin.

Dean lifted his gaze to meet hers, fighting off a smirk, “Like I said  _if_  I succeed.”

“And right now?” she asked hesitantly.

“Right now…” one hand came to cup the back of her neck, pulling her lips a hair’s breadth from his, “Right now I want you to give everything to me.” He smashed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss and Y/N responded in kind, her hands wrapping around his shoulders.

Dean jumped from the embrace with a start as the Bunker went dark, the sounds of generators and electricity quieting their constant buzzing. Suddenly, the Bunker was dimly bathed in crimson light at the emergency lockdown lights came on. He climbed from the bed, tossing Y/N her shirt as he listened to the myriad of voices beyond his closed door, shouting coming from a distance.

“What’s going on?” Y/N felt a panic creeping into her chest as she redressed, standing to join Dean at his side. The voices grew louder and closer, shadows of people rushing by visible beneath the door. Dean opened his door, glancing in the hall, seeing a few people running and turning the corner at the end of the hall, shouts, and screams coming from the main part of the Bunker. He went to his desk, retrieving his Angel Blade and turning to Y/N.

“Ready your blade.” he nodded towards her father’s blade that she carried with her everywhere. As Dean turned back towards the hall, he was met with a tall and thin man, two men behind him, filling his doorway.

“Dean Winchester.” the man sneered, “I’m here for John. Where is he?”

“Who are you? What do you want with John?” Dean readied himself for a fight, moving Y/N behind him in a protective gesture as he eyed the men suspiciously. The man stalked towards Dean, the other men approaching as well.

“Name’s Wayne,” the man stood before Dean, and Y/N gasped, seeing the spitting image of her father, “and your father  _murdered_  my brother.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Wayne forces Dean to lead him to John and chaos erupts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have been building to this moment for so long! I’m so freaking nervous about it, and it’ll never be exactly how I want it, but here we are. More to come in the next part. I decided to post this today because @sleepless-sin asked so nicely and she’s been a super supportive fan of the series from the start. Feedback is appreciated. : )

“My men have this place on lockdown.” Wayne stated, talking to Dean in a collected yet authoritative manner, “No one leaves until I find John.”

“John will face the Gauntlet per The Way-”

“I don’t give a damn about The Way, son.” Wayne sneered, “I’ve never followed The Way. I hunt, plain and simple. My brother was the one obsessed with this organized hunting business.”

“You think you can just come in here, unhindered, and what? Kill John Winchester?!” Dean laughed mirthlessly as he regarded the new threat and his accompanying minions.

“I think,” Wayne said, stepping toe-to-toe with Dean, “That I will take out every single person I see until I find your father,” he warned in low tones, his eyes challenging Dean. “Won’t be much of a  _Leader_  if there’s no one left to lead.” he mocked warningly.

“Fine.” Dean relented, worry gnawing at him for the people within the Bunker. He didn’t know much about this man before him, but he did know that he had managed to stay completely off the radar to the point no one even knew if he was alive. If he came out of hiding, striding through the front doors of the Bunker, knowing the threat, who knew what he was capable of. “I’ll take you to him.”

“Lead the way.” Wayne gestured, stepping aside to let Dean pass. One of his men snatched up Y/N and she quickly protested, struggling against his hold.

“She’s not a part of this!” Dean growled.

“You’re all a part of it. Besides,” he said, giving a chilling grin to Y/N, “She’s my  _kin_  after all.”

“You seem to know a lot for someone who’s not a part of The Way.”

“Know thy enemy,” Wayne muttered, shoving Dean forward by the shoulder and following on his heels. As they walked, Dean could see several more unfamiliar faces all over, corralling the various members of the way. They were ambushed, to be sure, no one ever truly expected anyone to just waltz right into the Bunker and even attempt havok. Yet within such a short time, Crowley and The Campbell’s, Wayne…Dean’s discomfort grew as he struggled to see a future where The Way functioned as it was intended. All he could see now was hopelessness and death.

Dean led the group towards the Dungeons, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to notice several people cuffed with zip ties, sat along the wall and more unfamiliar faces looming over them. Dean fought with himself, torn between minimizing damage to his people and wanting to unleash his fury against the intruders. Dean made his way to the control room where Sam and Gadreel were monitoring cameras and trying to control access points while trying to override the lockdown in effect. Sam looked up through the glass windows, seeing Dean approaching. Their eyes met in a distant and silent conversation and Sam turned back to the controls, moving Gadreel out of the way and desperately focusing on the computer in front of him.

As the group reached the control room, the lights in the Bunker came back on, the whirring sounds of the electricity and generators coming to life echoing through the walls. Sam turned with a look of smug satisfaction to the group as Wayne entered the room.

“Clever,” Wayne muttered before backhanding Sam, sending him crashing back into the console with a grunt before rolling to the ground.

“Sam!” Gadreel cried out, his anger practically making him vibrate as he pulled forth a large blade and moved to address the attacker. Wayne moved swiftly, blocking Gadreel’s blow and twisting his arm, sending the blade into Gadreel’s chest to the hilt. Gadreel gasped, a trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth before he met Wayne’s unwavering gaze. Wayne quickly removed the blade from Gadreel’s chest, letting him slump to the ground as he slowly bled onto the concrete floor.

Dean and Y/N roared, Dean attempted to lunge for Wayne, only to be held by two of Wayne’s followers.

“Now,” Wayne said, walking towards Sam and grasping him up, shoving him towards more men who moved to the groups' location, “Which one?” he asked himself as his finger trailed over the many buttons on the console. As he focused on reading the various labels on each button, he didn’t notice Gadreel, with a last bought of strength, clutch Wayne’s leg and jerk, sending him crashing forward onto the console.

Red lights swirled overhead and silence briefly settled as the sound of many locks clicking echoed through the halls, followed the sound of metal doors scraping against the floor, hinging slightly open. Wayne kicked at Gadreel in frustration, his body limp and eyes dead.

“Oh no.” Sam breathed out, eyes wide, as he glanced down the hallway at all of the doors, suddenly cracked open. “Get in the control room!” Sam roars, breaking from the suddenly slack hold of his captors, dragging Y/N and Dean into the control room and slamming the door shut behind them with a lock. The three of them and Wayne look through the window as all manner of horrors burst forth from the open containment rooms.

Wayne watched helplessly as his men were attacked by every manner of creature he’d ever encountered, and some he hadn’t. The hall was suddenly filled with werewolves, vampires, zombies, ghouls, gorilla-wolves…any creature Sam had managed to keep in the facility, every creature housed for experimentation, research, or the Gauntlet.

Screams reverberated through the Dungeon and blood splattered over every surface as the creatures tore through any human in their paths. Y/N jumped back in fright, slamming against Dean as a large, black gorilla-wolf was flung into the window, causing it to shatter.

“We’re not safe here. We need to get out of here!” Sam screamed above the din. He looks over the various monitors to see the different halls, floors, and corridors filled with monsters, people, blood. An all-out war zone within every inch of the walls.

Wayne looked at the screen, seeing John emerging from one of the rooms and throwing himself back against the wall, narrowly avoiding a running man and the gigantic fanged bat that tackled him to the ground and began ripping him to pieces. John winced at the carnage, watching as the bat caught sight of another man at the end of the hall and took off towards it. John quickly moved to the mangled corpse before him, gathering any weapons the man had and making his way down the hall in the opposite direction of the bat.

“John.” Wayne ground out through clenched teeth before turning and throwing the door open wide, brandishing his own machete.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sam seethed, snatching up Wayne and kicking out his knees, grabbing the machete from him and raising it to strike. Wayne suddenly cried out in agony and Sam’s attention was drawn to the long chain protruding from Wayne’s back, a thick hook visible from the front of his chest, blood spattering over Sam. He followed the chain with his eyes, finding it attached to a rather large and bulky zombie-like creature who tugged on the chain, dragging Wayne’s screaming body back towards him. Sam’s eyes went wide, seeing one of their - one of  _his_  - many failed experiments on the loose.

“Sam!” Dean brought him back to the present as he searched the nearby bodies for weapons, passing them out between the three of them. “We need to save as many people as we can and get the Hell out of here.”

“Dean!” Y/N shouted. Dean turned just in time to see a vampire hurling itself towards him. He spun, the machete cutting off the vamps head mid-air, the headless corpse continuing its momentum into the nearby wall.

“How many we looking at here, Sam?” Dean said, checking the pistol he retrieved from another body, Sam opting to take a tactical rifle.

“At least fifty creatures are housed at any given time. Not including the experiments…”

“When this is all over,” Dean grunted, “You and I are having a  _long_  talk.”

The three of them continued through the halls, fighting off creatures, working to save people, increasing their small group as they moved to settle the threat. Wayne’s men were still determined on their set goal, attacking creatures and people alike. Dean hissed, coming to a halt at the end of the hallway leading to the stairs back up to the main level of the Bunker. His eyes landed on an overly large werewolf creature, more wolf than man, covered in hair and bits of blood and carnage. The werewolf turned towards the small group, its fangs dripping as it growled viciously at the group. Dean readied himself for the fight before a man emerged hastily from a side hallway before them -  _John_.

“John.” Y/N groundout, pushing her way past Dean as she tightly grasped the handle of her father’s blade. Dean snatched her back forcefully to his side. John glanced at the werewolf, eyes wide as it took up most of the hallway. He turned back to see his sons, his eyes landing on Dean.

John roared, turning his back to the group to face the oncoming creature with a small blade in his hand. Y/N’s eyes flitted between John and the werewolf. Her mind begging her to seek revenge for her father, for her life, for The Way. Benny flashed in her mind, the tenets ringing in her ears like a chant,  _Hunters do not kill other Hunters_. Decision made, she tossed her blade slightly in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade and hurling it forward. The blade zipped towards John, grazing his shoulder with a slice as it landed in the heart of the werewolf. The creature howled, falling to its back from the force of the throw, and landing still and silent.

John turned, casting a glance at his injured shoulder before seeing Y/N running towards him. He growled, lifting his blade and ready for another threat. Seeing his intention, she dropped into a slide across the floor and under his reach, retrieving her blade from the creature’s chest. She turned, seeing John staring at her in silence, the blade in her hand dripping blood onto the floor.

A loud screech, followed by the large fanged bat slamming hard into the wall, before recovering and crashing through the ceiling, leaving a gaping hole and bits of concrete and rubble filling the hallway.

“Y/N!” Dean shouted, suddenly separated from her and John by the debris. He heard her shout before more commotion erupted from the other side.

“Dean,” Sam urged, tugging Dean away from the obstruction, “Dean!” Dean turned to look at his brother, “We can get out through the arena lift.” Sam tugged at Dean’s arm, urging him towards their new destination.

“Y/N and Dad…they’re alone, together.” Dean breathed out in a panic, wondering who would kill who first. More screams and cries erupted from their small group as a pack of gorilla-wolves began attacking them. Dean cursed under his breath, moving forward to fight the wolves and defend his people. He and Sam made quick work of the creatures, coming out of the skirmish with fairly minor cuts and bruises. Dean turned, seeing Sam was okay, then looked to the ground, seeing the remnants of their group.

“Dammit.” Dean cursed.

“We have to go Dean. We can’t stay here.”

“We’re losing everyone!!” Dean roared.

“Dean! Sam!” The brothers turned, seeing Kevin and Jo fighting back to back, struggling against more creatures and Wayne’s men. They ran to their aide, helping to rid of the attackers and checking over the pair to ensure they were fine. Jo was sporting a slash to her shoulder, her arm nearly hanging at her side. Kevin had taken quite a hit to the head, the side of his face bloody and bruised, one eye starting to swell shut.

“We’re getting out of here,” Dean announced, ripping fabric from a fallen body and making a makeshift sling for Jo. “Through the arena lift. Come on.” he pushed past them, heading for the lift, grateful they were all following him and hoping they all made it out alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come...


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The creatures are loose in the Bunker and everyone is struggling to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to apologize now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This is a mess! Added a little Easter Egg as a shoutout to my girl, @winsister91 (added with her permission). Unbeta’d.

**_Previously…_ **

_“Y/N and Dad…they’re alone, together.” Dean breathed out in a panic, wondering who would kill who first. More screams and cries erupted from their small group as a pack of gorilla-wolves began attacking them. Dean cursed under his breath, moving forward to fight the wolves and defend his people. He and Sam made quick work of the creatures, coming out of the skirmish with fairly minor cuts and bruises. Dean turned, seeing Sam was okay, then looked to the ground, seeing the remnants of their group._

_“Dammit.” Dean cursed._

_“We have to go Dean. We can’t stay here.”_

_“We’re losing everyone!!” Dean roared._

_“Dean! Sam!” The brothers turned, seeing Kevin and Jo fighting back to back, struggling against more creatures and Wayne’s men. They ran to their aide, helping to rid of the attackers and checking over the pair to ensure they were fine. Jo was sporting a slash to her shoulder, her arm nearly hanging at her side. Kevin had taken quite a hit to the head, the side of his face bloody and bruised, one eye starting to swell shut._

_“We’re getting out of here,” Dean announced, ripping fabric from a fallen body and making a makeshift sling for Jo. “Through the arena lift. Come on.” he pushed past them, heading for the lift, grateful they were all following him and hoping they all made it out alive._

* * *

Y/N looked at the debris blocking the hallway and obstructing her view of the group. Panic began to settle deep in her bones as she wondered what would kill her first - the monsters, or John. She turned hesitantly towards the former Leader, her father’s blade gripped tightly in her hand as she swallowed hard, preparing for an attack.

“I’m the least of your worries.” John chuckled humorlessly as he looked her up and down. “Seems to me we stand a better chance of getting out of here alive if we work together.”

Y/N was taken back by his suggestion.  _Did he mean it or was it a trap?_  In the end, she figured she didn’t have much of a choice and nodded stiffly. John returned the gesture, heading towards the stairs that led to the main Bunker.

As they neared the top, they could see more people and monsters running rampant through the halls, blood and gore draped over seemingly every surface. Screams echoed around them, a constant reminder of the horror that surrounded them.

John stopped before the last few steps, speaking over his shoulder to Y/N, “Stay close, no hesitation, got it?” she nodded once more, taking a deep breath as they moved forward into the hallways of the Bunker.

* * *

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Dean screamed, slamming his fist repeatedly into the metal side of the lift as they rode it up towards the arena. “How did this even happen?!” he spoke mostly to himself. Kevin attempted to soothe Jo as she sobbed in the corner, clutching her arm that was nearly lost in the fighting.

“Emergency purge in case of ambush.” Sam responded, feeling the guilt crush him, “Dad insisted.”

“Of fucking course he did!” Dean scoffed, tugging fistfuls of his hair as he tried to wrap his head around everything. Trying to calm his nerves and be strong for those around him, Dean quickly gathered his thoughts. “All right, once we reach the surface, we’ll need to scale the pit. Then we can exit the arena. At least then we’ll be outdoors instead of fish in a barrel.” In his mind, he continuously prayed to Castiel, begging for his assistance. He hadn’t heard from or seen the Angel since the debacle in the Council Room and worried that perhaps Castiel would no longer hear his prayers.

As the lift opened, Dean stepped forward first onto the earthen floor, a barred gate visible several yards ahead, the arena just beyond. He paused at the bars, surprised to see the pit completely empty. Sam hurried to the wall beside the gate, opening a control box and messing with the wires until the gate lifted, allowing them passage.

Dean stepped into the arena, surveying his surroundings before giving a curt nod to Sam. Sam ushered Kevin and Jo forward as they headed to the scaffolding supporting the announcer’s platform.

“Sam, you first so you can help the others,” Dean ordered, Sam quickly scaled the scaffolding part way and practically carried the injured Jo along with him. Once they reached the top, Sam leaned over the edge, watching as Kevin struggled to climb, reaching out to help pull him the rest of the way to the platform.

Once Dean was satisfied the others were safe, he readied to climb before his attention was caught by screaming from above him. He took several steps back to crane his neck and see what the commotion was above him.

A female figure appeared before Jo, Kevin, and Sam. Her eyes were black like a demon, with blue electric tendrils flitting over the surface of her eyes and over her hands and fingers. She flashed a wicked grin, looking up at the trio through her lashes.

“Gemma,” Sam spoke cautiously, placing himself in front of the others, a handheld before him as he addressed her. Her black eyes flicked toward Sam, her head tilted to the side as she regarded him. “Let them go,” Sam pleaded with her.

“What is she?” Jo whispered in shock.

“A blood witch,” Sam said, never removing his eyes from Gemma.

“An  _experiment_ ,” Gemma spat, her tone dripping with venom, “Seems the tables are turned when you don’t have me in chains, Sam.”

“Gemma, I’m sorry for what I did to you,” Sam began as he slowly reached for the weapon tucked in the back of his pants.

“I was a human witch and you turned me into a monster!” Gemma sneered, ticking her head upwards, sending Sam flying back into the stadium seating, several of the makeshift chairs breaking apart from his hard landing.

Kevin narrowed his eyes at the new threat, protectively pulling Jo behind him as he prepared for another attack. The movement drew Gemma’s attention and she lifted her hands, a purple ball of energy slowly growing between them. She smiled, tossing the ball into the air and watching as it twisted and writhed into the form of a giant snake. The head of the beast curved downwards, looking at the shocked and frozen forms of Kevin and Jo beneath it.

The snake shot forward and Kevin reacted quickly, shoving Jo harshly to the side out of harm’s way as the snake opened its hinged jaw wide, snatching Kevin and tossing him high in the air before catching him and swallowing. Kevin’s screams died out as his body disintegrated within the swirling purple magic that made up the creatures’ body.

Sam hurried over to Jo, helping her to her feet before a blood-curdling scream filled his ears. He looked to Gemma, her arms wide at her sides, her head thrown back as bright blue light shot out of her wide-open eyes and mouth, her body flashing orange as an Angel blade protruded from her chest. Her body dropped to the floor in a heap and Sam watched as Dean walked from the announcer’s platform to the fallen body, removing his Angel blade.

“You two ok?” Dean asked breathlessly as he helped Sam get Jo to her feet. Jo dropped her head to Dean’s chest, shaking it rapidly and sobbing hard, her hastily bandaged arm bleeding heavily once more.

“Kevin is dead because of you,” Jo said, turning her wet and angry eyes on Sam as she stood beside Dean. “Countless people are dead or dying because of  _your_  experiments and playthings in the dungeon!” she seethed.

“I didn’t do this,” Sam protested, “I didn’t let them out-”

“No, but you kept them there. You made this possible and you created things like, like that witch!” Sam held up his hands defensively, shaking his head and looking between her and Dean. “You’re a monster, Sam Winchester! Just like them!”

“Jo,” Dean tried to calm her, placing a hand on her uninjured shoulder. Jo shook her head, reaching for his Angel blade and pushing him away as she held the weapon before her, swinging the blade to slash at Sam. “Jo, stop!” Dean commanded, coming up behind her.

Jo moved, holding the blade out before her, staring down the brothers who stood side by side before her. “The Winchesters ruined The Way. The Winchesters killed us all!” she continued to sob, taking a step back for every step they took towards her.

“Jo, Sweetheart, you’re in shock. Let’s all just get out of here together and we can work on making things right, ok?” Dean offered, slowly approaching her like a wounded animal.

“You can’t fix this! You can’t bring them all back!” she protested, her tears streaming rapidly down her cheeks. “We’re all gonna die, we all  _deserve_  to die.” She swung the blade at Sam once more, the tip connecting with his chest, ripping a tear through the fabric and down his torso. Sam reacted instinctively, snatching the blade from her grasp and shoving her back from him. Jo gasped, losing her footing.

“Jo!” Dean screamed, lunging for her and just missing her arm as her body fell over the edge into the pit, landing with a loud crunch to the floor below. Dean looked over the edge at Jo’s still form, her eyes wide as blood soaked into the earthen floor from her head.

“Dean,” Sam gasped in shock, “It was an accident. I didn’t mean-” Dean turned, glaring at his brother and snatching the blade back from his hands. Sam winced, his wound trickling blood that stained his tattered clothing. Dean looked over his brother’s wound, determining it was survivable for the time being.

“I know.” Dean responded, none too convincingly, “Let’s get out of here and find the others,” he said solemnly, “Assuming there’s anyone left.”

Sam swallowed hard, guilt seizing his insides more than the gash in his flesh. Even though he wasn’t himself at the time, Sam still remembered all he had done. He remembered experimenting, creating these creatures, torturing them. Jo was right. This was his fault. His and John’s, and Sam was determined to make things right, as much as he could.

* * *

John and Y/N made their ways through the halls of the Bunker, their blades and bodies covered in blood and gore from the seemingly endless hordes of foes attacking relentlessly. They fell into an easy rhythm, which would have surprised Y/N had she had a second to contemplate the situation.

“Get some!” a shout from a male was heard just around the corner of the hallway, the sound of bullets firing rapidly from an automatic weapon. As they turned the corner, Y/N saw Garth facing off against a group of zombies, an automatic rifle shredding them down to writhing piles of flesh on the ground.

“Garth!” Y/N called out as she came up beside him, the pair stepping back slightly from the dismembered body parts still struggling to attack the hunters. “You’re ok.”

“Takes more than a few critters to take me down, Little Lady.” Garth smiled warmly at her, wiping the blood from his brow with his shirt sleeve, only succeeding at smearing the mess further. The gangly hunter turned to see John standing with her and he swallowed hard.

“Anyone else alive?” John asked, his voice steady and booming.

“N-no, Sir.” Garth stuttered, John’s presence more foreboding to him than the monsters roaming the halls. “I was with Charlie, but we got separated. I was currently making my way in the direction she went.”

John nodded, looking around him briefly before turning back to Garth, “All right. Lead the way.” John gestured before him and Garth nodded, reloading his weapon and heading down the hallway after Charlie, John and Y/N in tow.

As they moved through the Bunker, they noted the din was quickly quieting down, most of the creatures having been killed or escaped from the facility. Entering the Library, they paused, a blinding light filling the space before dissipating, leaving only a man in a suit and trench coat, standing amidst the gore and bodies littering the ground.

“Who, or what, are you?” John growled, placing himself before Y/N and Garth as he prepared to face the unknown man.

“Castiel!” Y/N gasped, rushing towards the Angel and hugging him tightly. Cas awkwardly returned the gesture, looking her over.

“I’m glad you are still alive. Dean prayed to me. I wasn’t going to come, but when I heard the prayers of the dying…” Cas looked up at John then, his face turning hard as he looked at the former leader.

“John!” Y/N screamed, seeing the familiar giant monstrosity that had claimed her uncle previously entering the room behind John. He turned, seeing the zombie-like creature approaching, the long hook-and-chain dragging on the ground behind him as he slowly hobbled towards the group. As he grew closer, two more similar creatures came up behind him, dragging different variations of the similar long-chained weapons. As Y/N looked harder, she could see one of the creatures looked eerily similar to the former announcer, Rufus.

“Oh my God!” Y/N exclaimed, realization washing over her. The creatures roared as they were suddenly bombarded with a rain of bullets. Y/N turned towards the source, seeing Charlie at the other end of the room, closer to the exit, her gun aimed at the creatures.

“Yeah, bitches!” She exclaimed, as her clip emptied. The creatures roared in response, moving forward once more. Charlie swallowed hard, looking at her gun and struggling to reload.

“Get them out of here!” John yelled to Castiel.

“We stick together!” Y/N protested, blade in hand as she stood beside John. One of the creatures launched it’s chained weapon towards her. John, noticing the movement, grabbed Y/N by the shoulders and spun her, the weapon hooking hard into his back, followed by two more, ripping into his flesh. He screamed out, falling to his knees. “No!!” Y/N screamed, jumping back in fright, realizing John had protected her.

“Go!” John roared, “Save them! Find De-” John’s commands were cut short, turning into blood-curdling screams as the three creatures tugged harshly on their chains, one of the hooks coming loose and ripping a chunk of flesh from his side, the other two battling to rip him in two as blood gurgled forth from John’s lips. Y/N stared wide-eyed, jaw slack as she barely registered a hand tugging on her arm, pulling her away from John as he continued to struggle against his attackers.

John growled fiercely as he grasped at one of the chains, ripping it from his leg, a large chunk of flesh still attached to the aged metal hook. He looked up from his position on the floor into the three faces now looming above him.

“I’m sorry,” John whispered as he closed his eyes, before the creature that was formerly Rufus lifted his hook, a snarl showing his teeth as he brought the weapon down with a hard thunk, lodging it into John’s face, the other creatures assisting in ripping the former Leader’s body to shreds.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In dealing with the destructive aftermath, the remaining Council Members make a difficult and harsh decision, and set their sights on the future of The Way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here it is, the final installment of The Winchester Way! I had a hard time finishing it and I think a lot of that was a subconscious hesitation to let it go. This story grew into something I never imagined. Seriously, I initially planned it to go a completely different way and it ended up growing into its own direction and story. Thank you to everyone who has supported this fic and patiently awaited each part as I struggled to write. I am very proud of this story.
> 
> *See the end of work for additional A/N*

Dean helped Sam down into a rickety, worn chair in the old, abandoned cabin nestled in the woods a short hike from the Bunker. The cabin had belonged to Elijah Winchester and was where The Way was originally founded and operated before the construction of the current Bunker facility. The brothers came to the cabin often in their youth, playing at being warriors and finding much-needed respite from the constant activity housed within the Bunker walls.

Dean found an old first aid kit, still hidden away in one of the cabinets, and wordlessly passed it to Sam, letting him tend to his wounds as Dean paced the small cabin. The Bunker facility was greatly damaged but luckily would only take several people and a few months to repair. The bigger issue was the great loss they suffered - the many,  _many_ people that had died with the release of all the creatures housed within the dungeon.

The burden of Leadership weighed heavily on Dean as he considered the actions that needed to be taken: Hunters would need to be sent out to kill and dispose of the escaped creatures; the Bunker would need to be repaired and cleaned of all the blood, gore, and bodies; and then there was John…and Sam. Dean knew any survivors would demand an explanation and justice. John and Sam would be brought forth before the Council - or what was left of it - that much Dean was certain.

The door to the cabin burst open, revealing Bobby. Behind him followed Walter, Melody, and Kyle. Dean hurried over, helping everyone into the cabin and getting them settled. Sam silently passed him the first aid kit which he handed to Bobby.

“Are there any other survivors?” Dean asked, choking slightly on his words.

Bobby let out a tired sigh as he shook his head. “Not that I saw.”

Dean’s heart clenched and an image of Y/N popped into his mind. He wondered if John had killed her, ready to blame it on the creatures. No one would be the wiser, and he certainly wouldn’t put it past his father to do such a thing.

“I’m going back,” Dean announced, grabbing his machete and making for the door.

“What?” Sam protested, rising from his seat with a wince, “Dean…you  _can’t_ -”

“I can and I will!” Dean growled, spinning on his brother with a warning glare, causing Sam to shrink back from his brother’s ire. Dean turned back to the door with a huff, throwing it wide, and taking a step before freezing in his tracks at the sound and sight of movement in the trees just beyond the cabin. He tightened his grip on the machete, trying to decide if he would barricade the survivors within the cabin or go forth and face the threat.

“Dean!”

Dean heard the familiar voice of his Angel friend calling out to him before seeing Cas break through the trees and brush, having Charlie, Garth, and Y/N with him.

“Cas?” Dean rushed towards the small group, ushering them inside the now cramped cabin and securing the door behind them, “Is there anyone else?”

“I’m afraid not,” Cas stated, making his way around the room and healing the wounds of the injured before coming to face Dean once more, “You should know, your father didn’t make it.”

John was dead. His  _father_ was dead. A surge of sadness, regret, and relief welled up within Dean, but he buried it down, knowing now was not the time to allow himself to get emotional.

“How?” Dean sternly inquired.

“That damned hook-and-chain zombie that killed my Uncle,” Y/N responded with a hiss, before turning a threatening glare on Sam, “You and your father turned Rufus into one of those things and he killed him. John died protecting me from that monstrosity.”

“Rufus?” Dean asked in shock, looking to Sam for confirmation. Sam simply dropped his head in shame, unable to bear the judgment from his brother.

Dean turned back to the group, squaring his shoulders protectively as he stood in front of his brother as if to shield him from the accusing glares being sent his way, “Sam wasn’t himself,” Dean protested firmly, “He was made soulless against his will. Anything that happened while he was like that  _cannot_ be held against him.”

“I was aware of my actions,” Sam chimed in with a meek tone, “Being soulless just made me not care.”

“Did you  _care_ when everyone died because of your actions?” Y/N spat, inching closer to Sam as her tone grew more vicious, “Did you  _care_ when John locked away Dean? Did you  _care_ when you  _raped_ me?!” she screeched. Dean put up his hands, holding Y/N back as she attempted to lean over Dean’s shoulder to get closer to Sam. Although Sam was significantly larger than everyone in the room, he shrank away from Y/N’s accusations.

“I do now,” he whispered, ashamed of himself as the guilt he felt multiplied and twisted his insides painfully.

“I agree with Y/N,” Bobby added, coming to stand beside her, “He was  _aware_ of everything. He needs to face the Council for his actions.”

“No-” Dean began before he was stopped by Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

Sam stepped forward to face Y/N and Bobby, “He’s right. John and I are responsible for so much that happened within those walls. For the pain and suffering. I deserve to face the consequences of my actions.”

“Sam, no,” Dean pleaded with his brother. If it were anyone else, Dean would be quick to follow the tenants of The Way, to make the offender face justice. But this was  _Sam_. He wasn’t himself. He couldn’t let him go down for everything…could he?

“Y/N, Garth, you and myself are the only remaining Elites and Council members,” Bobby explained to Dean, “We need to collectively decide not only Sam’s fate but the future of The Way.”

Dean stood silent, his body nearly shaking from his growing anger as he stared down each of the other Council members defiantly. His eyes locked with Bobby’s last, a long stare-off and silent communication before Dean’s shoulder’s slumped. He let out a defeated sigh before turning to face his brother. He didn’t like it, but he knew all other members of the Council were determined.

“Sam,” Dean said his brothers name apologetically and Sam gave him a small, reassuring smile in return.  _I understand_. 

“Sam Winchester,” Bobby spoke loud enough for all to hear, “You stand accused of breaking the tenants of The Way.”

“Hunters do not kill other Hunters or cause them harm through action or inaction,” Garth stated.

“Act with  _compassion_ and  _empathy_ towards all creatures,” Y/N spat the words in disdain.

“See what is right and fair,” Dean continued reluctantly, “In the behavior exhibited by others, and uphold the righteousness and the  _moral disposition_  to do good,” he concluded with a heavy-hearted sigh.

“Usually, you’d be brought to face the Gauntlet for your crimes,” Bobby explained, “But seeing as the Bunker and our  _resources_  are defunct, the only option that remains-”

“Is exile,” Sam breathed out, knowing the laws inside and out. He dropped his head defeatedly, fighting with all he had to not break down or plead for mercy. He knew what he had done and in his mind, exile was  _generous_. He met the eyes of each person in the room, seeing the determination and hatred in their eyes. He was nothing more than a dangerous outsider, an opponent, to them. He couldn’t speak. He only nodded, turning to grab his weapon from the table and heading towards the cabin door, shoulders slumped and head down, “For what it’s worth,” he said, looking at his brother, “I’m sorry.”

Without another word, Sam opened the door and closed it gently behind him. He took a deep breath of the forest air, trying to calm himself until he was alone and further away.

“This is  _beyond_  fucked up,” Dean said after Sam had left the small cabin.

“It’s also The Way, the laws we live by. As our  _Leader_ , you should be setting that example.” Bobby pressed.

“I’m  _not_ your Leader. I haven’t even completed the Trials-”

“I think you’ve  _more_ than proven yourself, Dean,” Garth said with a humorless chuckle.

“I agree,” Y/N and Bobby added in turn.

“Due to recent circumstances, the Council agrees to forgo the Trials. In tradition with The Way of Elijah Winchester and the ideals and traditions we live by, we name you, Dean Winchester, official Winchester representative on the Council and the new Leader of The Way.”

Bobby completed his short speech by raising his right fist and tapping it against his chest in honor and recognition. Y/N and Garth followed the gesture.

Dean faced the group, mimicking their gesture, “I accept the role as Leader and Protector of The Way and promise to uphold the Tenants until my dying breath,” he responded with the ceremonial line, feeling the weight of everything multiplying as it settled atop his shoulders with everything else.

Dean was pleasantly surprised that his new position - and the requirements it imposed upon him - were met with relative ease. In the beginning, he found it somewhat unnerving how everyone came to him for advice and decisions. His initial reaction was to direct them to his father, and then he would quickly remind himself of his position and take necessary action. In the months since the disaster, he found it came easier to him. With every instance, he made decisions and gave advice, using the tenants of The Way to guide him. Those who survived and those who returned to the Bunker in the wake of the carnage talked amongst themselves of how Dean was shaping up to be one of the greatest Leaders of The Way since Elijah Winchester himself.

In those months, Dean found himself confiding in and turning to, Y/N for her thoughts and advice when needed. Not only was she now a skilled and experienced Hunter and member of The Way, but she was also a fellow survivor, a fellow Elite, and his bride-to-be. After the initial clean-up and rebuilding of the damage to the Bunker, Bobby had come to Dean to press the importance of tradition - the Leader must have a wife. With Dean being the only Winchester remaining in The Way, he needed to ensure the future of The Way, as well as his line.

The pairing of himself and Y/N was something he had hoped for, but he didn’t expect it to be so  _arranged_ and  _political_ in nature. He wouldn’t admit it outwardly, but he longed for real love. For the kind of love his mother and father had shared before everything went dark. He was certainly fond of Y/N and he knew it was mutual. But it wasn’t love. Not yet at least. With Bobby pressing the issue, and Dean determined to uphold traditions, he hoped that love would eventually blossom between them. But the foundations - friendship, trust, attraction - were all there, which made his nerves calm slightly as he prepared himself for the afternoon’s ceremonies.

The wedding was the first big affair to be held in the aftermath of great loss and every available Hunter walked the halls of the Bunker in anticipation of the joyous event, which would be followed up by the naming of two new Elite families. Recent events left holes in the Council. The remaining members agreed and talked to the families they wished to name - The Bradburys and The LaFittes - who accepted without hesitation.

Dean sat at one of the many tables filling the room, Y/N sat at his side, the Elite families filling out the rest of their table. He sipped on his glass of whiskey, taking in the joviality around him. In the time since the destruction, all remaining Hunters banded together to rebuild the Bunker and The Way. Although he still carried the burden of the loss of his family, the exile of his brother, the loss of so many lives, Dean felt a moment of happiness and for the first time in a long time, looked forward to what the future might hold.

“Care to retire?” Dean’s attention was brought to his blushing bride beside him, beckoning him away with a hint of a smirk. Dean nodded, bidding his farewell to the others for the night, attempting to ignore the woots and hollers that followed them as they made their way to Dean’s chambers.

Y/N turned to Dean, beginning to disrobe before he could even close the door.

“Eager much?” he teased with a smirk as he approached her, stopping her movements. He took a deep breath, feeling his nerves get the better of him. Sex was always easy for Dean. He took it and enjoyed it whenever possible. But this was different. For the first time in his life, it wasn’t just sex.

He forced his hands to steady as he took over her actions, sliding her sleeves down and letting her dress pool around her feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out in awe. When she smiled, he returned the sentiment, leaning in to capture her lips once more. She responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into his touch. Dean hummed at the contact, feeling his hunger grow. He had wanted her since he laid eyes on her. Initially, he wanted only to claim and own her innocence, but that had been taken from her. Now, he only wanted to make her feel safe and good and to connect with her.

Once they were both bare, he laid hem down on the bed, the two of them content for the moment with kissing and roaming hands. As Dean gazed down at her beneath him, he could see the worry and hesitation in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in nearly a whisper, afraid to pop the bubble they found themselves in.

“A-are you going to be rough with me?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“Do you  _want_ me to be?” he smirked.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she said, tearing her eyes from him.

Dean tilted her face back to meet his eyes, “It matters,” he stated, “More than you realize.”

“I,” she swallowed hard, careful to choose her words, “I know marriage was necessary. And I know I was the only one who could-”

“Y/N,” Dean stopped her, careful to keep his tone gentle, “I am very fond of you. I know I’ve never been kind or really shown much affection. But I need you to know this  _is_ different,” he brushed the hair back from her face, looking at her in adoration, “I hope in time you can learn to love me.” he admitted.

She stared at him for several long moments in silence, letting his words swirl in her mind before she gave a minute nod and leaned up to capture his lips once more. With renewed passion, he took his time to explore her body, learn what she liked and wanted, even if she didn’t know it herself. He had brought her to climax twice before he even considered entering her.

He notched himself at her entrance, gazing into her eyes, “You ready?”

She nodded, bringing his lips to hers once more as he slowly filled her. When he could press no further, he paused, allowing both of them to adjust to the sensations. She felt  _incredible_ , more warm and wet and tight than anyone he’d ever experienced before.

He kissed her shoulder sweetly before he started to move, withdrawing slowly and pressing back in just as slow, his eyes locked on her face and her reactions. She moaned loudly, her hands gripping his shoulders tight, holding him to her, their skin sliding against one another as his pace slowly grew, stoking the fires within her.

Her experience with Benny was sweet, caring, slow, and tender. But something about Dean - the way he moved, the way his muscles rippled beneath her hands, the way she could feel restraint and passion fluttering within him - it was different from anything she had experienced or even fathomed.

“Dean,” his name rolled off her tongue in a drawn-out moan, her legs lifting against his sides reflexively, allowing him to thrust deeper. He groaned at the sound, his face dropping to the crook of her neck as he intentionally and agonizingly drew out their pleasure. When her orgasm finally washed over her, the strength of it making her body quake, Dean fell over the edge behind her, grunting profanities and sweet nothings into her neck.

When he could move again, he flopped to his back, pulling her to rest across his chest. His fingers trailed over her skin as he stared at the ceiling. It was a little awkward. He had never stuck around long after the deed, always quick to redress and be on his way or to leave his conquest wherever they lay. It was all new, and not entirely unpleasant he admitted to himself. The feel of her against his side, the euphoria that still washed through his veins.

As she fell asleep, her soft snores filling the room, Dean looked down at her peaceful form. He had a wife, and most likely a child soon. His family was gone, but he was working towards a new one, one of his own. At that moment, he swore he’d be a better husband, a better Leader, a better  _man_ than his father. He’d protect his family - and The Way - with his life.

Hundreds of yards away, a dark shadow loomed under the moonlight, his dark and narrowed eyes fixed on the Bunker in the distance. His mind flashed with images of the building, its occupants, its history, before returning to the memories that haunted him. Memories of blood, monsters, carnage…and betrayal.

A low growl from his side drew his attention from the building in the distance and he sighed.

“Alright,” Sam said, patting the head of the Hellhound beside him. He turned his black eyes back on the building, a wicked smirk adorning his lips, “Time to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N #2: I have planned a sequel series called TWW: Sam’s Revenge. Way back in Part 10, I received a comment from someone who said they were looking forward to seeing Sam’s side of things and how he dealt with that because Sam’s feelings and reactions always seem to be brushed over. I agree. But his story was not something that could simply be a few extra chapters. The initial story is told, and now it’s time for Sam’s side. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the new series, as TWW tags are being dissolved. FOREVERS WILL BE TAGGED IN THE NEW SERIES!


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